Broken Bonds
by Alpha Male Wolf
Summary: Red Robin is captured by an unknown suspect and it's up to the Bat-Family to get him back. Dick, Jason, Damian, Bruce, Stephanie, and many more team up. Can they pull together before it's too late? And what does this man want with Tim anyway? Rated T for gore, torture, and swearing.
1. Missing

**So my first story is here! This is my most recent one (hopefully it'll be the best too). Please ignore any typos, when I get more into a scene I get more and more excited and end up typing too fast. Also, the ages of the Bat-Brothers are all over the place, I don't read many comics so just excuse that. **

**Review if you'd like too- I'm always looking for some tips! Other than that, enjoy! :D  
**

* * *

"What's the matter, Little Red? You're not looking so hot." A man taunted. He wore a smirk on his face, a dark over coat and dark pants. His eyes were hidden with sunglasses as he stared at a crumpled figure on the ground.

The masked hero gritted his teeth. He tried to push himself up, but let out a small cry. He fell back to the ground, holding his side. Blood stained the uniform, trickling to the ground. His vision was blurring, feeling dizzy now.

The sight obviously pleased his attacker because his smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. The boy watched as the man took a couple steps, so he could see his feet at the side of his face. He then crouched. The thug held what looked like a butcher knife in his right hand. He pointed the tip of it to the hero's neck.

"That's good, keeping bleeding just like that. When the others get here, I want them to know you're in pain. I want them to worry." His voice was raspy. Hot breath was felt against the masked hero's cheek, "Unfortunately, you won't be here."

The teen saw the blunt of the knife suddenly raised-

Sharp pain in his forehead. The sudden inflicted blow to the head created dark spots. His ears were ringing loudly as he felt his eyes start to roll back.

Stay awake; the one thought rang through his pounding head.

He felt himself being lifted off the ground. One hand was under his shoulder, the other under his back. This created an awkward position for him. He assumed it was the same for his attacker.

The boy felt himself being carried for a little ways. He attempted to open his eyes, but it was so blurry and dark it wasn't much use. The only thing he could see was the ground below him.

Then, he was airborne. It was for a short time, nothing like the fall he had just minutes before. He landed on a hard floor. It was carpeted, but the hairs of it were worn and short.

A car.

That's where he was.

The young hero tried to open his eyes once more. This time, he could make out the back of the car. The trunk was open. He could barely make out the figure of the man.

Stay awake….

He felt something pull his arms back. It was painfully rough; he had to clench his teeth to bite back a cry. Something metal bound his hands together. Two hands then reached to his chest and unclasped the crossing belts. He felt them tugged off. He let out a slight groan in protest.

"Shut up." The man's voice growled in reply.

The teen's vision began to blur more as he saw his attack back off and put two hands on the trunk lid. The intense pain in his head came back to haunt him as his stomach knotted up.

Stay…awake….

His senses became numb. It must have shown as he started becoming limp because the voice replied, "That's right. Just take a nice nap."

The teen shook his head weakly against the ground. His voice was barely a murmur and it was impossible to hear. His eyes rolled back behind his cowl.

Stay…

He blacked out to the sound of the trunk slamming closed.

* * *

Dick opened his eyes slowly. Light was coming in through his bedroom window. Well, his guestroom. The ebony agreed to stay in Wayne Mansion for a couple weeks, until Damian and Bruce could get along. And judging by the way things were going, he was probably going to be here for a while. He stared up at the ceiling, a small smile on his lips. He then yawned and sat up, itching the back of his head. Part of him was surprised his youngest brother hadn't snuck into his bed.

Before the oldest brother could think of that anymore, the smell of waffles came into his bedroom. It was a sign Alfred was up.

A grin spreading, the man pulled himself out of bed and headed downstairs.

When Richard entered the great smelling kitchen, he saw Damian already awake. The youngest brother was sitting at the table. A chess board sat in front of him. He held a complexed look on his face, something that looked strange on a kid for his age. Or at least would have if it wasn't, well, him.

"Good morning Master Dick." Alfred greeted from the stove. He had an apron on along with oven mitts. He was pulling cinnamon rolls from the heater.

The smell wafted around the room as the young man took it in. He let out a breath with a smile on his face, "Morning Al. Hey Damian." He greeted the two as he crossed the room.

"Grayson." The younger of the billionaire's kids addressed his brother with little interested.

Dick just smiled and took a seat next to the boy. He glanced over the chess board. It appeared that he had been playing with himself since both sides almost had the same strategy. He then glanced at the side the small boy was trying to move for.

"Your queen can take that rook." He told him, pointing to the chess piece.

"I do not need your help, brother. Now I have to start over again!" The young fumed with an annoyed growl. He started setting the pieces back to their starting points.

His older brother laughed and shook his head.

Just then, the phone rang.

He glanced over as the elderly butler walked over to the phone that lay on the wall. He picked it up, "Wayne Residence." He answered politely. There was a small pause as he listened which caused Richard to glance over, a curious look on his face.

Alfred looked a little concerned and confused now, "Why no sir, I have not seen him since yesterday." He replied with a small frown on his face.

Dick glanced back now, mirroring the frown, "Who is it, Alfred?"

"I will alert Master Bruce right away." The English man replied to the person over the phone. He then hung the receiver up. He let out an uneasy sigh as he turned to the two teens.

"That was Mr. Drake." He informed them.

"Mr. Drake?" Dick echoed, "As in Tim's dad?"

"It appears that Master Timothy never returned home last night." The butler explained, wearing the same worried look.

"He's probably dead." Damian remarked as he started his chess game over again.

"Not helping Damian." The older boy stated before standing up. He turned his attention back to Alfred.

"Where's Bruce?"

"I believe he is in the cave-"

As if to answer the question though, the billionaire stalked in. He looked like he always did, suited and neat, although his face expression was emotionless.

"I assume that was Tim's father." He noted.

"You heard?" Dick inquired, looking at him curiously.

"Oracle informed me that his com had been cut off."

"He didn't come back here. He would have told us; at the very least we would have heard him."

"Excuse me for asking sir, but do you think he's in danger?" Alfred questioned, worry and concern in his voice.

"There's a possibility. I asked for the coordinates of his last location."

"Are you going right now?" The 24 year-old asked, this time perking up a little more. As much as working with Batman was annoying, since the man insisted on treating him like a child, Tim was still his little brother. Like Hell he'd not be a part of this case.

Hopefully there isn't a case, he thought to himself, besides, there's still a chance he's just running late.

But the young man seriously doubted it.

"I was planning on it." Bruce answered in his usual monotone voice. His lack of concern was annoying, but his eldest son knew this was all just faked. He knew he was worried deep down.

Damian scoffed. Why his so called 'family' was so involved in Drake was beyond his comprehension. He continued to move his chess pieces, switching sides as he played against himself.

Dick caught this and crossed his arms.

"You're coming too." He told him, sounding much more like a father than a brother.

"Don't make me laugh, Grayson." The 10 year-old said as he rolled his eyes. He picked up a chess piece, only to have the whole board swiped from under him. He snapped his head up in the direction of the older boy now.

"Grayson!" He growled warningly, eyes flashing dangerously.

Dick didn't seem too threatened as he crossed the room with the board in hand, "Don't 'Grayson' me. You'll get this back once we find Tim. And not a moment sooner." He said firmly. The ebony then walked past Bruce and started to the office that led to the Batcave.

Bruce raised his eyebrows in slight surprise as Damian begrudgingly got up and stormed after his older brother, "Good for nothing…. waste of space…." He was mumbling.

The billionaire watched them go before looking back at Alfred, "Call if you receive any news."

And with that, he followed his sons out.


	2. Promises

**Alright so here's the next chapter! Again, I wrote this part a while ago, so sorry if it's just... awful.  
**

**I promise Jason will be in the next chapter, and he will be played by the wonderful schubskie (since I cannot play Jason for my life). She'll be making appearances in this story besides Jason. She's a fantastic author, if you're looking for some good Batman and DBZ stories, check her out! She's very nice.  
**

**Also, as I said before, my universe is different than the original DC one. Kon, Steph, Jack Drake, and all them are still alive here. Sorry if this annoys anyone, but I don't read many comics so I rather not worry about the deaths in the comic series.  
**

**I do not own any of these characters.  
**

* * *

The Batmobile made a silent halt. It was nearing 9 A.M., the air cool and moist. The clouds threatened rain above. They were dark gray, covering the entire sky; which wasn't a bad thing for the Bat family since they were able to duck into the cover of shadows better.

Batman was the first out of the car, followed by Nightwing the Robin. The youngest had his arms crossed, looking around the alley with an annoyed and uninterested look.

Nightwing ignored the boy's stubbornness and instead walked a couple paces away from the two. He looked up, all buildings on either side of the alley. He heard the beeped of his com and reached for it, "Nightwing here."

"Hey Short Pants, heard you check in." The familiar voice of Oracle was heard.

The man smirked a little more, "I did indeed. Thanks for those coordinates, since I know Batman hasn't."

A laugh was on the other end, "No problem. Any luck?"

"Nothing so far. Looks like every other alley in Gotham-"

"Nightwing." Batman's voice cut him off.

He glanced back to where the Dark Knight's voice had come from before reaching for his com again, "I'll call you back." He then jogged around the corner of the alley.

The hero skidded to a stop. His eyes widened.

The small passage connected to the alley…it was covered in blood. Most of the red liquid was about foot feet from one of walls, puddled on the ground. It had dried, leaving to show some spattered on the walls, as well as another large amount near the puddle, as if the subject had been moved or tried to move. He felt his stomach knot up.

"Father," Robin spoke up, a couple feet away from the scene. He walked over, avoiding the blood on the ground, as he showed what he held in his hand. They were two gold belts, small containers lining them.

Red Robin's belts.

The bottom of one of them and the top of another was also covered in dried blood.

Nightwing couldn't full comprehend what he was looking at. Of course he knew very well that something awful happened to his little brother, but now so many questions were buzzing in his head.

Batman, who had been a couple feet away from the puddle, was also silent for a little bit. He took the belts into his hands, seemingly observing them.

"Robin, call Batgirl and tell her to get here ASAP." He ordered then, as he handed the belts to Nightwing.

The Boy Wonder gave a groan, "We're not seriously going to get that _ditz_ involved with this case, are we?" He sounded irritated.

"We need someone to run evidence to Oracle. Now Robin." The Dark Knight growled, this time a little more forceful than before. He looked back at the blood that covered where the side of a building met the ground.

Nightwing watched as the boy complied and reached for his com, turning away from the two. He returned his gaze to his mentor and walked over, following the man's stare.

"Tim's a good fighter. Granted he never finished his training, but it would be hard to take him out. And he's not as prideful as Jason or Damian; he would have called for help." He thought out loud, almost hoping the Dark Knight could give him a good answer to this.

"He doesn't have any enemies either. None that we don't know about." Batman agreed, his sights still turned up the building. He seemed hard in fought.

"So I repeat; who could have done this? And why?" The ebony asked.

There wasn't a reply for a good couple seconds. The only sounds were the sirens off in the distance and Robin's frustrated voice in the background.

"Nightwing, how tall do you think this building is?"

The question caught the young man off guard. He looked back at the Dark Knight, a quizzical look on his face. But he then he looked back up at the building. Taking a couple steps back, and taking in the fact how many bricks were lined up, he came up with an estimate.

"I'd say about three stories. Maybe four." But then he turned back to the man with a small frown, "Why?"

Without replying Batman reached for his belt. He pulled out his grappling hook and shot it up towards the top of the building.

He watched his father disappear above the ledge. He held slightly worried face expression on his face now as he reached for his open grappling hook.

When he landed on the top of the building, Nightwing saw the Dark Knight near the ledge, looking down. He walked over, glancing down as well.

The alley and passage was clearly seen from this point, as well as Robin and the blood on the ground.

Suddenly, the ebony realized what the man was getting at.

Pure fear gripped him. Along with the sense of dread and worry now. He didn't try to hide it as he looked back at his former mentor.

"You don't think…" He trailed off, not being able to bring himself to finish the sentence. When the man didn't reply, the younger turned his gaze back to the alley.

He could imagine the scene.

Red Robin on the ledge, checking out surrounding area. Maybe he got into a fight and was thrown over the edge. Or maybe he didn't even see it coming. Maybe he was just pushed with not enough time to react to the sudden assault.

Nightwing could imagine the fear of the fall. He could see his brother's terrified face as soon as he realized what was happening.

And worst of all, the hero could imagine the pain.

The pain on impact. Or maybe he was dead on impact.

No, he wasn't. The blood showed he was trying to move. A fall of that size would certainly break bones though. Depending on what he landed on, the damage could be much worse.

_Oh God, Tim._

With all this running through his head, he didn't even realize what he was doing. The younger hero was on his knees, his hands gripping the ledge as he looked down at the alley with wide eyes.

Batman was crouched next to him, a hand to his former apprentice's back as he tried to snap him out of it.

"Nightwing- Nightwing, it's ok." His scratchy voice managed to break through to the ebony.

Nightwing looked back up, "Bruce a fall like that-"

"I know." The man told him quietly.

"We'll get him back." His son murmured, "We'll get him back safe. He'll be fine." His gaze once again turned to the Dark Knight, almost for approval.

Batman frowned a little more, realizing this. He gave a small nod, "I promise."

* * *

_"I'm leaving Timmy," A middle aged man spoke. He was crouched next to a young boy. The room they were in was worn and dusty. A lone light bulb was hung from the ceiling, the only thing that lit the small apartment._

_The boy had tears in his blue eyes. He swallowed as he blinked at him, the drops trickling down his cheek._

_The man sighed as he looked at him. He wrapped an arm around the child and pulled him close, his other arm protective across his back. He embraced, feeling the trembling from him._

_"Shhh, no tears. It's going to be alright. We'll see each other again." He cooed emptily, knowing full well what he said may have been a lie._

_"Don't go Daddy…" The dark-haired boy choked out, his arms around the man's neck. He buried his head into the strong shoulder._

_"I have to Timmy," His father told him quietly, "Me and Mommy have to go away. We can't stay here, it's not safe. You wouldn't want anything bad to happen to us, would you?"_

_The 6 year-old sniffled and tightened his grip._

_"No," His voice was quiet, "But can't you take me with you?"_

_The man shook his head._

_"You have to stay here." as he said this, his withdrew from the embrace. He put his hands to the boy's shoulders and pulled him off. He started to stand._

_"No, Daddy! Don't go!" The young boy cried. He lunged and grabbed onto the man's leg, burying his face into the pants._

_"Tim-" The father warned as he looked back down._

_"You can't go away! Why do you have to? Your stupid job isn't worth it!" He spoke with surprisingly correct grammar and pronunciation for his age. His eyes were squeezed shut as tears flowed from them._

_"Let go!" The man growled viciously. He took one of the boy's arms roughly and ripped it from his leg. He then threw him to the ground. There was a soft thud as he landed on his back._

_The child felt his elbow get torn. He looked up with hurt in his eyes, watching as his father grabbed his suitcase and yanked the door open._

_The man left without looking behind._

Red Robin woke up. His eyes slowly opened, forgetting where he was momentarily. He widened them, remembering suddenly. He jolted up, biting back a curse as he did so. Thick pain emanated from his side. It was restricting some breathing. The hero felt the pain from his head soon after; although this wasn't as intense and it was becoming more of a migraine than anything else.

_Just be glad you don't have a concussion,_ he thought to himself, although he expressed a wince right after. The teen glanced around at his surroundings.

It looked like a cabin. There was an old fashion fireplace in the corner. The walls, floors, and ceiling were wood. The only lights were small candles lit that were now on the table that that was in the corner opposite the fireplace. Besides that, it looked empty.

Red Robin tugged at his restraints then. He glanced down and realized he was strapped to a chair. His legs were chained down two of the legs. His arms were behind his back, around the back of the chair. The cowled teen attempted to move his hands, but they were cuffed tight. Then, another thought crossed his mind.

_How long have I been out?_

He glanced at his side, seeing that blood stained his untreated wound. He clenched his teeth as he tried to shift a little. It hurt so badly.

The boy swallowed back bile. He looked back in front of him as he felt fear gnawing at him.

_It's going to be fine_, he thought to himself, _Bruce is probably already on the case- Dick too. They'll get you out of here. You'll be fine._


	3. Family Matters

**Guess who's in this chapter? ;D **

**The amazing schubskie is playing Jason Todd in this story; without her there would either be no Jason or a very crappy one. Please send her support for playing this awesome role, since we all need a little more Jay-Bird in our life. ^-^  
**

**Also, the Tim scene... give it time. I'm not good at playing kidnappers, but I think I've got a good plan for this one! Let me know what you guys think, or if you have any ideas on what you would like to see!  
**

**Reviews shall be loved and cherished.  
**

**I do not own any of these characters (except the kidnapper).  
**

* * *

Dick was pacing the living room at Wayne Manor. His walks were hardly noticed since his thoughts were so loud and captivating. The young man darted his clouded blue eyes to the door that connected to the hall. Would someone hear him? He wasn't exactly asking Bruce's permission for this.

_Don't be stupid, Grayson. He's his brother too, he deserves to know_, he thought to himself.

His eyes glanced back at the phone that sat on the side table next to the couch. He frowned a little more, stopping his pacing. He then walked over to the phone and picked it up carefully. The ebony glanced back at the doorway one last time before dialing. He had it memorized.

It took forever. The rings kept coming and coming.

And still no answer.

"Come on, pick up…" Dick muttered under his breath as he stole another glance at the door.

But as if in answer, he received a 'pleasant' little message instead.

"You've reached the fucking number you called; if you can't remember then that's your own damn problem. Don't leave a message," an annoyed and less than interested voice stated.

Well that was friendly, the blue-eyed man thought. He started pacing again as he waited for the beep.

_Beeeeep!_

"Jason its Dick." He started right away, "I know you're there. Listen, it's really important." His voice was strong over the phone; he didn't want to give away any of the worry he felt.

Unknowingly, Jason was there. But that didn't mean he was going to pick up. The 20 year-old sat in his old apartment. The room was dark, the only light from the TV screen across from him. He was crunching some potato chips from the bag. The young man looked at the answering machine with a bored look on his face. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the infomercial.

There probably isn't going to be an answer, Dick thought to himself as no one picked up still. He felt anger rising in the back of his mind, but he shoved it down and continued.

"Tim left on patrol last night and never came back. Babs sent us his coordinates and we checked it out- bro, the place was covered in blood," The man had one hand through his hair as he continued, "We think he was jumped and fell a good couple stories; judging by the scene he's really hurt." There was no mistaking the worry in his voice that he tried to mask.

Jason looked back at the answering machine with an annoyed look. Finally, he scowled and slammed his hand on the phone before picking it up.

"Let me guess; I'm the _last_ one to be patched over about this." He stated, narrowing his eyes in front of him.

Dick was a little surprised by the sudden pick up, but he narrowed his eyes in front of him, not knowing his brother was doing the exact same thing.

"Well considering you never answer your phone-" He cut himself off here though, closing his eyes as he continued his pacing.

_Starting a fight won't help anything Dick_, although part of him wanted to start one anyway.

"Depending if we have to get the League involved- you're the second person we called." The ebony said instead, in a much more understanding tone.

_And Stephanie, but that was Bruce's idea._

This, however, received a snort on the other end, "The League," Jason rolled his eyes, "Seems like everyone else knows; Oracle, you, Damian...and obviously Timmy." He left out Batman because that was a given. "So I _am_ the last one."

The older of the two sighed in reply. He stopped by the counter and leaned over it. His left hand held the phone as his other covered his eyes, pushing his hair up a little as his kept his stare trained on the table top.

"Jay, we're in the same house. It would be hard for one of us not to know." He paused, "Oracle is linked to everyone through her computer."

_Like you should be_, he thought to himself.

"Believe me; we weren't trying to hide this from you."

Jason rolled his eyes again before replying, "Whatever Dickhead. You were always the good egg." He turned his sights back on the television and sunk into his chair a little more. His hand fell away as he put the phone between his shoulder and ear. "What do you want me to do about it? I'm busy here."

"What do I want you to-" Dick had to fight hard not to snap at the younger man.

_Keep your temper._

He started over, like before, in a calmer tone.

"He's our brother; what do you think I want you to do?" The 24-year old said instead.

"Right, right. The_ hero_ bit. No killing people and keep it innocent and sweet even if one of your own is brutally beaten. You want me to do that, do you?"

"It's not like that."

"Fine. I already died once, another time won't hurt."

After that answer, Dick was greeted by a long and droned tone. The call was ended.

Jason had slammed the phone back, "Because us 'brothers' have to stick together, don't we?" He openly mocked his older brother with a sneer. However, besides the annoying tone of the person selling their product on the TV, the only reply was silence. He cast his eyes down, his arms crossed before letting out a small frustrated growl and getting to his feet. The young man stalked across the room and grabbed his keys and motorcycle helmet off the table before starting out.

Dick, meanwhile, slowly took the phone away from his ear. He glanced over it with clouded blue eyes before walking silently over to the table and setting it back to the machine. The ebony looked back towards the window where sunlight was coming through. He sighed before walking out of the room.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when there was noise from outside the cabin. The double doors at the front were knocked around before there was a _clunk_ noise. Then, they opened.

Red Robin looked up when he heard this.

A man then stalked in. He wore old time monk clothes, the dark brown of it almost matching his hair and beard. He had dark brown eyes and a sharp frown on his face. In his hand, he held what looked a blood butcher's knife. In his other hand was a slaughtered turkey. He started to the fireplace without looking at the hero he had captured.

Red Robin watched him toss the dead bird and the knife to the ground, relaxing once he saw the weapon out of the man's reach. However, that was short lived when he turned his sights on him.

"You're awake." He commented, although there was no joy in his voice. It was strange since the last time he was captured, it had been Joker. He stayed sharp though.

"Why am I here?" His voice came out hoarse, which he recovered with a slight clear of his throat.

The man continued to watch him with intensity, "They're gone now."

The masked teen kept his eyes on him as he felt his voice still scratchy, "Who?"

"They are. It's just me."

Red Robin shook his head from the headache he had before muttering,

"Who are you?"

The monk stared as he towered above the teen.

"I'm Joseph Hench." The man spoke with a deep, yet smooth voice. It was almost like Bruce's, although it held a threatening tone to it. He didn't move as he continued.

"And you are responsible for my wife and son's death."


	4. Broken Bonds

**Here it is! Heads up: there is no Tim scene this chapter since it was already really long. I'll get to him next chapter though, and hopefully clear some of the confusion Tim got himself into. Jason Todd is played by the lovely schubskie of course.  
**

**Reviews will get love and hugs.  
**

**I do not own any of these characters.  
**

* * *

It was late that night. Dick Grayson sat on the couch. The coffee table in front of him, as well as the seating around him, was covered in crime scene photos. It was tough to look at, but the man found himself almost numb to the feeling now.

After all, these were just photos.

The ebony switched the one he was currently looking at to the next. He had to stop doing this to himself. It wasn't helping anything. Then, almost to answer his thoughts, there were four heavy knocks on the front door. They were slow, as if they weren't trying to rush anything.

Dick looked back towards the main entrance before getting up and walking over. He opened the door.

Jason stood, leaning against the metal railing on the side, his hand in his hair and the other smoking a cigarette. He blew a puff out at Dick when his older brother answered.

"You called."

Dick coughed from the smoke, swatting it away with his other hand. The porch light made it visible, so it was easy, "I called for Jason Todd, not Thomas the Train."

But he paused, glancing back with his blue eyes. A smirk settled on his face.

"Good to see you again."

The second child of Bruce Wayne stood up. Standing up all the way, it was clear he was near the same height, the only difference a mere inch. He gave a slight nod of his head before asking, "Wayne around? And no, not Bruce- I meant the demon child."

"He's not that bad-"

"Grayson!" A fairly irritated yell cut the ebony off.

Dick looked back to see Damian standing behind him with crossed arms and a scowl on his face.

"What is it?"

"Ignoring the fact that there is a convict on our doorstep?" the 10 year-old retorted, casting a suspicious eye over the new comer.

Jason grinned like the Cheshire cat when he saw his younger brother. He looked to the oldest brother with the same smug look, "You took away his chess board, didn't you Dickie?"

Dick grinned as he replied, "How else would I make him help with the search?" The young man turned and motioned for the other to follow with the wave of his hand. The two started across the living room.

"I am not helping with the search; Drake can rot in Hell for all I care." Damian protested as he briskly stormed after the men to catch up.

"Come now Damian, you don't mean that."

Jason, meanwhile, doused his cigarette by pulling up his sleeve and rubbing it into his skin. Although it must have burned, he didn't seem to notice. He dropped the butt onto the ground, narrowly missing a wastebasket. He didn't show any sign of going back and picking it up though.

"I think he does," he contributed. "The little snot takes after me, don't you Damian?" he shot his younger brother another look.

With Tim out of the picture, this kid was the next best target for pissing off.

Damian narrowed his eyes at the ex-convict, making a face of disgust.

"Don't flatter yourself Todd." He sneered, "You're in the same boat as Drake, although I have slightly more respect for your actions."

Dick rolled his eyes.

_Glad to have the family back together_, he thought to himself.

After this remark though, Jason put a little bit more swagger into his step. Of course if anyone had asked him about it, he'd have kicked his ass right then and there. His look still looked sour though as he narrowed his eyes, "Not many people are deserving of respect."

"And that came from Damian; you must be proud." Dick then mused back to his second brother.

"Shut up Grayson."

The three were now in the office, the eldest of the three pressing the button to the secret pass into the Batcave. As they started down the stairs, however, it was Jason who took the lead. His feet made heavy clunking noises as the metal bottoms hit metal floors. His hands were in fist at either side of him.

The cave looked as it always did; dark with blue and dimmed yellow lights. And of course, sitting in his usual chair, was none other than the Dark Knight himself. He didn't seem to hear the three come down, although they all knew that was impossible. His eyes were connected with the blue screen in front of him.

"Brought a friend." Dick offered to the man, in hopes to get his attention.

"I heard." The billionaire responded in his usual deep voice. He didn't seem too interested or happy.

_Not exactly the answer I was looking for_, the ebony thought.

Jason seemed to be thinking the same thing because he narrowed his eyes more.

"I don't want to be here either."

As if in reply, Bruce stood from his chair and turned, facing his three sons. He looked as he always did, serious, stern, emotionless.

"Well then, that makes three of us." Damian crossed his arms, "I would count Grayson's vote, but we all know how worthless that would be. So if you'd excuse me-" He started to turn and stalk out, but Dick snatched him by the hood of his sweatshirt.

The oldest ebony looked back up at the billionaire, "Where's Steph?"

"With Oracle." The older man told him, "They're running tests on the evidence."

"On what, the _blood_?" Jason's voice rose a little bit as if he was challenging his adoptive father. But of course, that was just the way he always spoke. His hand was on his hip.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at the young man, "The _evidence_." He stated a little sterner now.

"Ok, ok. It doesn't matter what you call it; it's not good." Dick stepped between the two, his hand still holding his younger brother's hood, "Speaking of which, we should go back there, let Jason scope it out." He looked back at the oldest man.

It sounded like a suggestion, but it obviously wasn't.

"I'm pretty sure I could find my way there on my own," Jason turned away.

"I'm sure you could," Dick agreed, "But the fact is we still know nothing about our unsub. He could be targeting us one at a time."

Bruce glanced back at his second son as well, "He has a point. We can't be too careful."

Jason's facial expression was unreadable from behind, but he fell to a frown- a different kind of frown, a sad one.

Then he hardened again, "Fine." He turned back around, his back to the man.

"Just get this over with."

* * *

The three arrived at the scene 15 minutes later, partly because Damian was complaining about, well, Dick couldn't remember.

It wasn't a big deal that was for sure.

Nightwing was the first to arrive, followed by Red Hood, then Batman and Robin. He stepped off his motorcycle and glanced around the scene again. He felt the pit in his stomach return. It was stupid really; he had been looking at the photos all day. But something was just way worse about coming to reality that this was the reality.

Red narrowed his eyes at the scene, before getting off his motorcycle. He walked forward, looking up and down the walls on either side of him; as well as drying blood on the ground.

"Oracle just confirmed that this is Red Robin's." Batman's voice broke the silence between the two younger heroes. He stalked up, standing a little behind them.

"Wasn't much of a struggle then, huh?" Nightwing replied, but it was surprisingly quiet compared to what it had been before they arrived. It was weak.

Red Hood was now retracing a few steps. He looked like he was doing something of a dance almost, as he spun and tried to match what could have been the conflict. His boots made small gritting sounds as they ground against the pavement, before he looked up at the tall barbed wire fence at the end of the alley.

"Where does that lead to," he spoke to no one, just stating a comment. He picked up the pace and jogged forward, before beginning to climb the fence.

The two other heroes exchanged glances, but it was the younger of the two who gave chase.

The red hooded man disappeared over the top, clearing the wire by mere centimeters. He landed in a crouch before standing and pulling out a mini-flashlight and surveying the surrounding area; deluded in the shadows.

Nightwing wasn't far behind him, flipping over the fence in more of an acrobatic way. He landed in a light crouch and glanced back at his younger brother with a small frown.

"Nice wheels," Red commented keeping his light trained on what appeared to be faint tire tracks. "Wonder how much horse power that thing had."

His older brother noticed them too.

"Hey Batman-" He glanced back at the fence, only to have the Dark Knight drop down two feet away from him.

Despite working many years with the man, fighting alongside other bat family heroes, and going solo for years after, it still caught him off guard sometimes.

He jumped.

"Really Nightwing? Aren't you supposed to be the one with the most _training_?" Robin questioned, behind the young man. Even when he was saying his hero name it sounded annoyed.

"At a certain point that ceases to be a factor kid," Red Hood flicked off his flashlight and slipped it back into his belt.

They could use their own damn flashlights.

Batman seemed to be able to see fine though, because he crouched down to the tire marks.

"Robin, call Batgirl." He pretty much ordered.

The youngest gave a groan in reply, "Again? I still see no reason to bring that dimwitted girl into this case-"

"Unless you would like to contribute to the search, I suggest you call her."

The Boy Wonder paused, a surprised look on his face. Then, it was replaced with his usual annoyed look.

"Fine. But I am only doing this so Drake doesn't get the satisfaction of me being one of those who helped find him." He told them.

"Just call Stephanie." Nightwing rolled his eyes.

Red Hood wandered away from the others, out toward another alleyway which branched off from this one.

Nightwing glanced back at him with a small frown on his face before looking back at Batman. He looked back at his brother again.

"So Batman," He wandered over to his mentor, "You know, Red was the one who found the tire tracks." The Dark Knight didn't look back at him.

"Did he."

His former apprentice nodded, "Yeah, I mean, without him we wouldn't have found them." He noted suggestively, as though he wanted the man to pick up on why he was telling him this.

"I'm sure we would have."

It didn't go as well as the young man would have liked.

If Red Hood was listening, he didn't show it until then. His head snapped back to the two when the man said this, eyes trained on Batman.

But he kept going and rounded the corner into the adjacent alley. His feet firmly planted on the ground, he looked out into the dark of it. To the untrained eye, it was like any other hell-holed in Gotham.

Dirty, rat-infested, and run-down.

But he closed his eyes and reopened them and the alley turned into something special.

The moment again that forever changed his life.

_The Batmobile; different than it was now- a little less tricked out. A boy stood behind it, a lug nut wrench was in his hand and dirt smeared across his face._

_It was him._

_He could almost taste the dead pigeon on his lips and tongue- the last meal he had eaten in days._

_Then, Batman appeared. He remembered the fear as he looked at his tool and dropped it to the ground. The boy would never forget those words the Dark Knight spoke._

_"I don't believe this..."_

Suddenly , Robin's voice cut him from his thoughts.

"No I am not inviting you because I think you will be any use; I am inviting you because I do not want Drake to start thinking I care for him-"

Red spiraled out of all the good feelings he was having, as if someone had shot a bullet through his dreams. He growled in frustration as he kicked a rock at his hallucination and stormed back to the group. When he rounded the corner, he barked, "Will you shut that shitty-ass attitude for one second Kid? God, you're no better than a little, insignificant, _piece of-_"

"Jason!" Nightwing cut the man off though.

Robin stopped abruptly. He had one hand to his com. The next words he spoke were mechanical.

"I have to go. And no, I will not be calling you back." He then ended the call. The Boy Wonder slowly turned to his second older brother, his eyes narrowed and his teeth gritted.

"I'm sorry Todd, did you say something? I was too busy talking to an actual hero. A dumb one, but I suppose that's still better than _you're_ doing, isn't it?" He bit viciously.

"That's enough." Nightwing stepped between the two of them.

Red Hood tried to shove his older brother out of the way to get to the Boy Wonder

"You're lucky Tim's in this mess because if it was you I wouldn't even _bother_," he snapped viciously.

"Ha! I wouldn't need the help of a criminal like _you_." Robin lunged.

But Nightwing grabbed his hood and kept him back with one hand, keeping Red Hood back with the other.

"Will both of you just cut it out?!" He shoved both of his brothers back.

"Like it or not, we're all on the same team. We all want to get Tim back safe- some of us more than other," He shot his youngest brother a look here, "Can you at least pretend to get along until this nightmare is sorted out?"

Red looked like he was going to say something else directed at Robin, but he just let out a low growl and shouldered off his brother's hand.

"I'm done here," he turned and stalked back to the fence and climbed back over. He continued onwards, obviously heading back to his motorcycle.

"Jason-" Nightwing started after him. He looked back at the Boy Wonder, then and back at the fence before releasing a sigh.

Batman, of course, was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on Robin. Let's go home." The ebony said, defeated.

* * *

It was raining cats and dogs that night. Loud thunder and lightning mixed with the steady down pour almost matched the mood the Bat family had.

Red Hood didn't return to the Cave.

Instead, he slammed into his apartment and took off his helmet, flipping wet hair.

_The guy thinks he's special because he's Robin,_ he thought bitterly.

He dropped the helmet to the floor.

_Well I was Robin a long time ago._

He kicked his boots off. They hit the ground making dull, hollow sounds.

_And I wasn't born into it. I never had that privilege._

The young man angrily flopped down on the couch. _'I'm sure we would have',_ he openly mocked Batman.

"In translation-" he paused, turning the television on.

It was soft though, and his voice was clearly heard against the new sound and the steady patter of rain.

"-Jason's dead to me. He's never existed; he was never Robin. I don't want him in my life anymore."

The young man choked out the last couple words, his throat tightening.

He broke down.

There was a clatter as he dropped the remote. Instead, his hands gripped his face and hair, back shaking.

And it continued to pour.


	5. Confusion

**Alright, so I busted my butt to get this Tim scene right. I'm awful at kidnaps yet that's all I want to play! Ugh! So annoying. **

**ANYWAY, hope you guys enjoy. Sorry for the late update tonight, I got caught up in other things.  
**

**Reviews are loved and enjoyed.  
**

**I do not own any of these characters.  
**

* * *

"I_ what?_" Red Robin asked incredulously. He pulled against his restraints slightly, just on instinct.

Joseph stared down at him, making the teen stop his pulling. He then crouched slowly, his eyes directly into the hero's.

"You had my wife and son killed you little piece of _shit_!" The man suddenly lashed out, whacking Red hard in the jaw.

It split his lip.

Red Robin closed his eyes tight.

_Hench...Hench... why did that sound familiar? _

He was interrupted in his thoughts when the monk grabbed him by the front of his uniform, lifting the boy off the chair a little. The chair stayed in place, being bolted down to the ground with cement and melted metal.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." Joseph seethed.

The ebony looked alarmed, "I don't though; you have to have the wrong guy-"

The man shoved him back into the chair.

"That's fine. I'll just have to _make _you remember. You _will _pay for what you did." He growled, his dagger like eyes shooting younger again.

Red Robin stared back at him, his mind reeling in the background.

_Hench... Joseph Hench... where was that from? Did he actually know this guy? _

_No. No way. Because even if he did, he wouldn't have killed someone- that was out of the question. This guy had to be thinking of someone else. _

_Maybe he was delusional...  
_

Joseph was now across the room, looking through something that appeared to be a tool box. It was unnecessarily huge for a tool box though.

He suddenly stopped and reached his hand down, finding what he was searching for.

Red Robin peered across the room, trying to see what the object was.

The man slowly turned, holding some type of carving knife. He then started towards the hero.

His boots back heavy c_lunks, _hitting the wooden boarded floors.

"Confession is good for the soul, boy. It is the only way one can find peace. Once you confess, you will have peace. And so will I." Joseph said in an eerily calm voice.

Red Robin's wrists were twisting around and pulling, trying to break free.

"You're insane. I didn't _do _anything."

_Right?  
_

"I don't listen to the words of demons." The monk stated.

"I'm not a demon- I'm _human. _Like you are. Listen, if you just let me go I can help you find who killed your wife and son-"

"I know who killed them. It was _you._ You watched while they burned. _I _was forced to watch while they burned!" Joseph shouted, his voice rising. He then grabbed Red Robin's cowl, yanking it back off of the boy's face.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, his hair falling across his forehead. His piercing blue eyes shot up to the man.

"See, I'm human. I'm made of flesh and bone." He said, his voice forced calm.

Joseph grabbed the teen's hair with his hand, pulling his head back and exposing his neck more. The tip of the blade pressed into the flesh.

"The devil can disguise himself too." He said lowly, trailing the blade across, a small slit forming.

Tim cringed, but didn't allow his breathing to pick up anymore than it was.

There were a couple moments of silence as the knife continued along before halting and lifting off. He then pulled Tim's head down, using his grip on the boy's hair he still had.

"Even... even if you got a confession from someone who did that to your wife and kid... you wouldn't let them go." Tim said slowly, his eyes carefully studying the man.

"An eye for an eye. A life for a life." Joseph said gruffly.

"Don't get any ideas for being rescued either. I know all about you and your Hell Clan. After you confess to your sin, I'll let them watch you die. Like I had to do."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a metal box about the size of a ruler.

The ebony could only watch from the corner of his eye as the monk opened the case and retrieved a syringe. He popped off the top of a small bottle of clear liquid.

Joseph slipped the needle into the bottle, pulling in the liquid slowly.

"What the hell is that?" Tim asked, trying to shake the man's grip off him. His voice was forced calm.

"Something to keep you under while I'm gone. Don't worry," The man looked up, "It won't kill you. Just put you under for a nice drugged nap."

Joseph then grabbed the teen's arm, that was pinned behind the back of the chair, releasing his grip on the boy's hair.

Tim's head snapped up as his arm was twisted around to expose the underside. The man then squeezed the bicep, ripping the part of the uniform that covered the vein.

The ebony clenched his teeth as the needle was pressed in, inch by inch. Joseph inserted the liquid with a cold expression on his face.

"The others are already looking for you. I think I'll send them a present as a warning." The man spoke above the silence in the cabin now.

Tim was already feeling the drug enter his system, as the monk's words were mixing together and slurring.

_Hench... Joseph Hench..._

The teen's breathing was slowing, his vision blurring.

_Why is that... so familiar? _

Tim could barely make out the fuzzy figure of his captor stand up and cross the room.

_Hench... the Hench family..._

The ebony felt the overwhelming lull to pass out come over him. As if it were an after thought, the pain from his side came rushing back, making him just want to go to sleep more.

_Jose...ph...Hen...ch..._

* * *

"Where were you Bruce?"

Those were the first words from the billionaire's eldest son as he stormed into the cave, flinging his mask off.

The Dark Knight was seated calmly in his chair, analyzing the tire tracks from the alley. He didn't bother to look back as this question was addressed to him.

This got Dick even more pissed off.

"Oh so now I'm not good enough for an answer? You know this is low, even for _you_." The ebony sneered, standing with hands clenched and flashing eyes.

Bruce rolled his eyes, his cowl hanging from the back of his neck like it always did when he was in the safety of his headquarter. The man turned in his chair, a less than interested look on his face.

"What are you complaining about?" He more stated than asked.

Dick gritted his teeth, "I'm talking about how you _abandoned_ us in the alley. Right when Jason and Damian were at each other's throats!"

"There was no reason for me to be there. You had everything under control." Bruce turned back around to face the computer and continued with his work.

"Had everything under control- Bruce we finished the conversation with both of them wishing the other was dead! For some reason I thought when you got back I wouldn't have to play the father role anymore." The young man snarled.

"Neither of them are dead, are they?"

"I can't believe you!" Dick shouted, "You're supposed to be the one who sorted it out. Thanks to you, Damian locked himself back in his room and Jason went back to his apartment! But you wouldn't care about that, huh? You're just so damn caught up in your mission that you disregard everyone else who tries to help!" By the end, the blue-eyed man was yelling.

Moments of silence passed.

"Get out of my cave Richard." Bruce stated with his back still turned to him.

But Dick was so hyped up; he could've cared less about the order.

"Did you even see Jason was there? Did you even notice that he was trying to help? Well it certainly didn't look like it because you completely ignored him! He found those tire tracks Bruce! Not me, not Damian, and not _you_!"

"_Get out of my cave_." Bruce stood, whipping around to face the ebony a few paces away.

"All you've been doing is acting like he doesn't exist! And he's your son Bruce! He doesn't deserve any other treatment than me or Damian or Tim!"

"Richard I'm warning you." The billionaire stalked towards him, gloved fists clenched.

"And while we're on the topic of Tim; why don't we talk about how this search is going?! Two of his brothers have pretty much given up, his team and best friend have no idea he's missing, and his supposedly mentor isn't even bothering to keep everyone together so we can find him before he-"

Dick didn't see the assault coming, even though he should have.

The knuckles connected with the side of his face, sharp pain replacing it when it left.

The ebony stumbled back a couple paces, but luckily for his pride, didn't fall. He put hand to the side of his face, his center two blue fingertips grazing the new bruise.

He looked up at his mentor, who was standing up all the way again. He narrowed his eyes.

Bruce watched him, reading the hate filled eyes like a book.

Anger, sadness, guilt, worry, and fear- they all flashed in the blue orbs like lightning.

But he pretended not to notice. Instead, the man narrowed gave a hard narrowed glare at his oldest son.

"_Get the hell out of my cave_." He growled threateningly.

Dick stared at him, feeling as though he had failed.

Failed Tim.

Failed Jason.

Failed Damian.

Failed himself.

He backed up a couple paces, the guilt of everything hitting him like a ton of bricks.

"Ok Bruce. You…you win." He shook his head and turned, briskly walking towards the stairs and disappearing up them.

Bruce didn't see him go. He had turned back to his computer, standing behind the chair.

He turned because he couldn't watch his son feel so guilty.

And he didn't chase because he felt the same guilt.


	6. Alliance

**Next chapter! I was lucky enough to have schubskie help me a lot; since this is an all Jason and Dick chapter. I won't be updating as quick after this because I have to start new for all my chapters now. I'll try to keep up my updating pattern, but just send me a message once in a while so I don't get lazy. **

**Reviews are loved and cherished.  
**

**I do not own any of these characters.  
**

* * *

Jason rolled over, barely aware that he was closing his eyes. In his peripheral vision, beer bottles and tipped over shot glasses of vodka lay sprawled across the coffee table and floor; they were not too different from his own position.

The ebony closed his eyes, feeling the pounding his head.

_Warm, satisfying…_

He had lost all sense of time after the first three bottles, now content with the spinning room and the dim lights that were only brighter from the streaks of lightning.

"Bruce can say…_whatever_ he wants," he slurred in a drunken grumble. "I'm staying right here," he pointed a finger down on the couch cushion and belched. "And…and nothing _no one_ says is going to change that."

He rolled again, and didn't register his head hitting the coffee table on the way down to the floor.

His helmet, balanced precariously on one of the sofa's arms, fell off and rolled across the hard wood as well. He allowed a small drunken laugh before his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

* * *

Jason wasn't sure how much time had passed before he awoke. He laid there, his eyes closed, feeling as though there was nothing more important that being right there. Then, a loud knock on the door.

His eyes shot open as he let loose a low growl of torment. The ebony managed to push his weight up and lumber over to answer it.

It was still pouring, although the lightning had ceased. Even through the dark of the night and the early dawn, Jason could tell who knocked on his door, the figure as clear as day.

Dick stood there; not Nightwing.

For a moment the two just looked at each other; disheveled, red-eyed Jason Todd and-

"Perfect _Dick_," Jason spat the last word as if it were a curse before slamming the door shut.

Moments of silence passed as the ebony crossed the room, a scowl on his face with crossed arms.

Then, another four loud knocks.

Jason hung his head back and sighed, before swinging back around and opening it wide this time.

"What are you…get out of here…Grayson."

His speech was better but a few words eluded the younger ebony.

Dick, however, didn't move. Now with a better look from the light in the apartment pouring on his figure, his friendly face was gone and replaced with an emotionless look. The older was soaked too, almost like he wasn't prepared for the rain when he clearly knew there was a storm. He wore a dark gray drench jacket, his hands in his pockets.

"I came here to talk." He stated calmly yet there was something edging his voice.

Jason just looked at him, "I don't want to…with _any_body."

Dick sighed and walked past him, "Jay sit down. I'll make some hot cocoa." He told his brother, his footsteps the only sound against the rain.

"Remember? Whenever you were upset when you were a kid it would make you feel better." He noted with a ghost of a smile.

Jason scoffed and looked away, "That kid died ages ago."

"I know he's in there somewhere."

The other ebony swayed a little and steadied himself with a hand to the wall. He looked down at the floor but didn't reply.

Dick paused halfway across the room and put a hand to his face, running his through his hair and releasing his breath. Silence covered the room once again, both brothers looking away.

"I'm worried, alright?" The older said finally.

"About Tim," Jason slurred.

"About everyone." Dick stated right after, "I mean, it's only been 42 hours…." He paced to the furthest part of the room before turning on his heel, "So why do I feel like we've already lost him?" He looked up at his younger brother then.

"And then there's you and Bruce. I'm worried you guys will never get along. And if you can't work together then Damian won't help either. Then it'll just be me and I can't do this on my own."

"Dick I can't go back Bruce doesn't give a fuck-"

"But he does, Jay-"

"No, he doesn't. He's replaced me and he's replaced Tim. It'll only be a small amount of time before-"

Jason lost his bearings and fell over.

Dick widened his eyes and jogged over, helping his younger brother off the floor. He pulled his weight onto his own before making his way over the couch. He placed the young man down so he was partly sitting up and partly lying down. This was after, of course, clearing the empty bottles off the couch.

"I don't remember what I was talking about," Jason's eyes were half-closed.

"It doesn't matter." His brother told him, "Right now you need to sleep this off. What's the point of talking to you if you're not going to remember any of it?" He tried for a smile.

"Dick…." Jason's voice was soft and scratchy, his gaze was in slits. "I miss Wayne Manor," he whispered sullenly. "I really do. I miss waking up to Al's waffles and hopping into the Batmobile with Bruce…" his facial features contorted in pain. "But all those good memories are marred now by my past. I can't be like you, or Tim or anyone there. I just don't belong. I can't be happy…" then he passed out.

Dick watched him for a good long time, his eyes clouded with emotion. It was mostly guilt and sadness that covered them now though.

"You belong with your family Jay." He murmured, taking off his drench coat. He padded across the room and hung it up silently before walking back. The 24 year-old then took off his under jacket and placed it over the younger.

"And I just want you to be happy. I just want us to be a family again." Dick looked at him one last time before heaving a heavy sigh and padding out of the room.

* * *

_Dick's POV:_

I wasn't sure that bringing him back to my apartment would make him the happiest person when he woke up. But considering he was drunk out of his mind, his own apartment was a wreck, and he was in desperate need for love, I thought he wouldn't mind.

Besides, he was out of hot cocoa mix anyway.

Now, I stood in the doorway of my room.

Jason was lying on the bed, sleeping soundly now. Even in his sleep though, he didn't look peaceful. He looked like he was in pain. It had been nearly hours of me sitting with him, trying to get him into a better sleep. But that wasn't helping. So now, I stood there, watching over him. As if something or someone might try to hurt him in his vulnerable state.

Jason.

My little brother. The first little brother I ever had. The one I got to see grow up into the Robin name and work besides my former mentor. The same kid I had been jealous about when he grew close to Bruce.

Jason.

He was the lost hero who had been brutally beaten by Joker when he was only 15; the boy who had come back to seek out revenge. This was the same brother who had killed so many people in his attempts to make things right. He was the same brother who lost his way.

Jason.

My little brother.

I could feel my throat and chest tighten. My legs suddenly felt weak and slid down against the wooden beam behind me until I was sitting. This felt better. At least I couldn't fall. I draw in a shaky breath. This whole situation has been hard. Too hard.

Why was this so hard? I've dealt with kidnappings before. Jason…Tim…Damian… they've all come out of them ok. Well, for the most part. There were a few exceptions. And those exceptions kept haunting me.

I just want everyone to be together. That's all I want. I just want us together and safe.

I won't ask for anything else. Just let this all end ok.

I stand and glance back at Jason. He looks like he's still in pain. I have to turn away and walk out to finally take my eyes off. He would probably kick my ass for becoming such a mush.

Instead, my feet take me through the kitchen. I barely spare a glance at the steaming pot of hot chocolate.

I keep walking until I've reached the living room and I'm standing face-to-face with the fireplace mantle. On the dark wood, there are pictures. I know them well.

I take in another breath and pick a golden framed one. It's a picture from before Damian came into our lives. Before Stephanie came. It was a picture of Tim, and Jason. I remember where it was from too. They were a lot younger. It was a goofy picture really. I caught them off guard after a day of being at the Gotham fair. I still can't believe I got both of them to go.

That was the day when Jason and Tim became brothers again; when our bond as brothers was pieced together and complete.

They're both smiling in the picture, talking over something I can't remember. I wish I could.

I placed the picture down, my eyes trailing to the next.

It's a picture of me and Damian. How I got this one is truly a mystery. Somehow I caught the kid smiling.

I feel my smile start to slip off my face now.

I can't shake the overwhelming sense that we're never going to be like this again. That there will never be another happy, relaxed day.

Sometimes I just wish things could go back to the way they were.

The way that everyone else got to have them.

* * *

Jason stumbled in, bracing himself on the doorway with a hand. He gripped the molding so tightly the veins in his fingers stuck out.

Dick glanced back, hearing the soft thud when he did this.

"Jason," He jogged over, "You shouldn't be up already."

"Grayson," The younger groaned, as if the noise was too much. He put a hand to his head.

"You shouldn't have brought me here."

"One, yes I should have. Two, I figured you needed a clean place to wake up to. Not that there's anything wrong with your apartment but…"

Jason moved past him and flopped onto the couch, the palms of his hands in his eyes.

"Look," Dick said, "I get you're going through a lot with Bruce. We're uh; all deal with some stuff with him right now. But you guys are going to have to get a long we're going to be able to rescue Tim."

The younger ebony took one hand away, his bloodshot eye looking straight at his older brother.

"You guys think I'm nuts. You always thought I was nuts."

"I think you're... _misguided_ at times, yes. But it doesn't mean I don't need you. I mean, none of us are exactly normal." The older walked over and sat on the armrest of the couch.

Jason sat up and stood, swaying slightly and shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Bruce doesn't want to see me. He thinks I'm a monster," the ebony looked back at Dick.

"I'll find Tim on my own terms." He turned, "Joker and I are practically friends," he murmured.

"No, you aren't. You're not going alone, and if Joker has any part of this you _definitely_ not going alone." Dick stated firmly, standing up as well.

"I don't give a _damn_ what Bruce thinks- you're my brother and I'm not losing you _again_."

Jason didn't move, "I'm a big boy now. I can handle myself."

"The last time you said that to me you were brutally beaten and killed." Dick crossed his arms.

"This might come as a surprise to you Jason, but some of us actually _care_ about what you do."

Jason looked away and down at the floor.

The older ebony sighed.

"I don't know if… we're going to even find Tim before…" He trailed off before running his hand through his hair, "I don't want to lose someone else. I don't want to lose another brother. I had to let you down and I know what you have to suffer through now. And I can't keep this family together by myself Jay. I need someone else, who knows everyone as close as I do." His voice was soft now.

Silence.

Then, "Fine, Dick, I'll go if it…if you stop going all soft on me." His younger brother settled with a scowl.

Dick smiled faintly.

"Thanks Jason." He paused before remembering something.

"First things first though, I'm getting the hot chocolate in travel mugs."

"I'm never going to be able to sleep off this hangover, am I."

"Not at all. But I would start by taking a shower Jay-Bird," His older brother used a nickname he hadn't in ages it felt like.

"We're going to have a long night ahead of us."

"Yeah, yeah." Jason stumbled out of the room.


	7. Update Notice

Hi there!

I know I said I'll be updating "Broken Bonds" yesterday, but I'm thinking of taking a small break from this one. It's not that I don't like writing it (it's my favorite story I've written actually), but other stories like "Riddle Me This" and "Labyrinth" seemed to have gotten more popular and I want to expand on those for a little bit.

Part of the reason is this story takes so much thought and time to complete each chapter, since I don't see it ending any time soon. The other stories are probably going to be shorter, and they don't nearly as long of time since I don't usually have to write as much and I don't have to contact schubskie to help me out with Jason Todd.

Please note this isn't going to be for a ridiculous amount of time, I'll get to the story in the next couple weeks probably! It's just that I'm feeling a little low that I spend a lot of time writing each little detail with each chapter, but my other stories that are much easier to write for are getting more popular. I think it's great that those are getting viewed too! Thanks to anyone who's been reading them! After I get some written out for those I'll get right back to this one, since, honestly, I love this Fic.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and/or followed! It really means a lot and I promise this break won't be too long! I'll get back to this one as soon as I can get inspired!  
AMW


	8. Inner Conflict

**AAARGHHHH I'M AN AWFUL PERSON! I'm really sorry this took so long to get up. I was only going to take a couple weeks (due to Christmas and New Years), but here we are almost a month later and I'm just posting a new chapter for this year. It's sad and I'm sorry. I got caught up in school and everything, plus I was totally uninspired to write for the past couple weeks. I must have opened this document like 14 times before finally writing something. **

**Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. I know this is pretty short (for this story I usually write 2,000 words per chapter), but it was my first time playing for Stephanie EVER. Please let me know what you think and if I need to make any changes to her character play!  
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**I was having Damian overload this morning and had to write a chapter for him, because I love his and Tim's relationship, and thought I should mention his inner struggle with caring about his brother, but not wanting to. Alright, enough chatting, enjoy!  
**

**Reviews are loved and let me know people still read this (even after the long break).  
**

**I do not own these characters.  
**

* * *

It was around 3 A.M. and Damian Wayne was sleeping.

Or trying to sleep anyway.

He awoke, his eyes shooting open and sitting right up. His breathing was quick as he glanced around the room, like he was surprised to be here.

_Just another nightmare_, he thought to himself before scowling, _I'm never going to get any sleep._

He pulled the blankets around him and his eyes closed slowly. He blinked them a couple times against the dark as they started to close more and more. They were adjusted to the darkness by now, so they could see the window letting in a soft glow.

In one blink, it was just his regular room, large and roomy, nothing on the floors and hardly anything on the walls.

Then in another, a figure was standing in front of the window.

Damian was out of his bed, almost faster than he could manage and withdrew a dagger from under his pillow, whipping around.

"Show yourself," He growled, baring his teeth like a cat.

"Relax twerp, it's just me."

_Fatgirl_, the boy thought to himself bitterly, but didn't place his dagger down yet.

"What the hell are _you_ doing in my room?" He hissed.

Even in the dark, Damian could make out the girl's drop dead look from behind her cowl.

"To watch you while you sleep- why do you _think_ I'm here?"

The ebony scowled and looked away.

"I suppose you'd be here to speak to my Father or Grayson. They're both gone so leave." He sat on his bed, arms crossed.

"Actually," The figure crossed the room and sat on the bed next to the 10-year old, "I'm here to speak with you twerp, so quit that pouty look."

Now closer up, Damian could make out the features of the girl. Her moonlight blonde hair, her clear blue eyes, and that annoying look she had, like a cross between a scolding and disappointment.

He _despised_ that look and the boy looked away, nose pointed in the air.

"I am not _pouting_."

Batgirl rolled her eyes, "Oh really?"

"Yes really. Now if you would be so inclined to tell me why you've broken into my room. You are just lucky that I was half asleep or you would be bleeding out all over my carpet."

"Yes, yes, I'm very grateful, happy now?" The blonde said sarcastically, "But I came here to talk to you on why you quit on the mission!"

Damian did not look back at her still.

"Because it was a waste of my perfectly useful time, _Fatgirl_." He sneered, "And if that's all you have to speak to me about, I suggest you leave me to my sleep."

The ebony plopped his head on his pillow, back to the girl. He held an annoyed look on his face, hearing no reply to his insult, which surprised him.

Then,

"_Fatgirl_? Ugh! Look, Bat brat, I'm telling you to suck it up and get back on the mission. Tim needs your help."

Damian rolled his eyes, "And you think I care? Have you not been paying attention for this long, _Fatgirl_?"

Suddenly, something grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him up into a sitting position.

"Will you cut it with the Fatgirl thing? This isn't about _you_ or _me_. This is about _Tim_." Batgirl exclaimed in a hushed voice, for it was still night and she wasn't really in the mood to explain to Daddy-Bats why she snuck into his youngest son's room.

"I do not care about Ti-"

"Yes. You do." Batgirl took him by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye.

"You can fool Bruce, Dick, Jason, _everyone_- but you can't fool me. I know deep down in that little heart of yours, you really _do_ care."

Damian looked surprised. But then he narrowed his eyes against hers. They read of hate and annoyance.

"Get out of my room before I stab you."

"Not until you agree to help me. If everyone else is going to give up, then we need to be the ones who stay with it. And I am not doing this alone when Tim has _three_ brothers who are all perfectly trained to help!"

"You don't get it, Fatgirl. I can help Drake if I wanted to, but I do not. I wouldn't care if we found him tomorrow, gagged and beaten to death in a ditch. I wouldn't care if he was skinned and gutted. And I wouldn't care if he were in the most immense pain of his life. I. Don't. Care." Damian yanked away from her grip and stood up, "And I certainly do not care if you or any of the other fools care for him." He looked over his shoulder at her with a sneer, "Get it _now_?"

Batgirl stared up at him before narrowing her eyes back at him.

"Fine. I'll do this on my own then." She got up and stalked across the room to the open window. Setting a foot through, she glanced back at the ebony.

It wasn't this that caught the boy's attention. If anything, he was pleased. But it was what she said that cut him deep and left her leaving with the last words.

"You know, if it were you who were missing, I know Tim would have stopped at nothing to get you back home safe."

And just like that, she was gone, disappearing into the night.

Damian kept his annoyed and irritated look before it melted into a frown and back at the window.

"You really don't get, do you. If I try and fail… how will I live with myself? How could I live with guilt of failing?" He carefully sat back on the bed, eyes training on his feet before looking back towards the curtains. His voice was soft.

"_How_?"

* * *

**Again, sorry it's so short. But I'll be updating this one a lot more, because I have some idea of where I'm going now. Just let me know if you think I played these two right. I don't play Damian much either (I'm going to be role-playing both of these characters), but I love him so I figured I'd give it a try. **

**Thanks for reading!  
AMW  
**


	9. Ringing Phone

**Note: Had to update quick- please ignore any typos. I try to proof read, but sometimes one slips by me. Feel free to let me know if you catch one though!  
**

**Reviews are loved and appreciated!  
**

**I do not own any of these characters (except the kidnapper).  
**

* * *

Damian woke up early that morning.

Like he always did.

He supposed that was one thing he and Drake did have in common, they were usually the first ones up, with the exception of Alfred of course. This was mostly because if Bruce were up, he'd either be in the cave being the Dark Knight, or at work being playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne.

So the 10-year old would usually be up before his father left, watch him leave, then continue on with this morning. He wasn't sure why he did this, it was just a habit. And no one knew about it except for his father and Alfred, who never told anyone else.

It was a secret they shared before Bruce had 'died'.

And it was also when Damian found the only similarity between him and Timothy Drake. Well, technically, he was Timothy Wayne, but the 10 year-old refused to believe he held any relation with the teenager.

Damian could still remember hearing the footsteps in the empty house after Bruce's passing. He was confused at first, the butler never made a sound when he walked.

And no one else was up.

Or so he thought...

But the ebony was tired of thinking about this memory now. Truthfully, he didn't get much sleep last night, and didn't get any after Batgirl's little visit.

He didn't understand why, but he didn't feel like thinking about that either.

Instead the Bat's youngest son stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds outside.

It was raining again. It always seemed to rain in Gotham, even more so during fall. The air was crisp in his room and his eyes trailed to the window that he had left opened last night.

It was closed now.

_Must have been Pennyworth, _he thought to himself, eyes returning to the ceiling. It felt like it was late in the evening from the daylight that was barely streaming in.

Releasing a mutter under his breath, Damian sat up and pulled the blanket from over him. His feet touched the cool wooden floors and he crossed the room to the door.

It was completely silent in the house except for the beating of the rain.

It felt empty.

Damian didn't mind. He had grown up with Talia for the most of his life. If there was anything he could stand, it was to be alone in a house.

He headed down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Unlike before, it was empty now. Alfred must have been away cleaning somewhere else in the cave. Dick was not there to bother him.

The phone was silent this morning.

And like the rest of the house, it felt cold.

The ebony sat at the kitchen counter, looking at the clock.

It read 5:22 A.M.

_What do I usually do in the mornings, _Damian thought to himself, a hand through his hair as he leaned over the counter.

_Usually I train. But Father is busy with the case. I play chess. But Grayson took that away._

Then, an almost dark humor thought occurred in his head.

_Well then I usually annoy or pick a fight with Drake. _

And he didn't need to remind himself why that was going to be impossible.

_No matter, _Damian hopped off the stool, _there has to be _something _interesting in this damned house._

Just then, the phone rang.

The 10-year old narrowed his eyes. That ringing tone was an annoyance the ebony would _not _put up this morning. Although, he supposed with Drake gone that he _did _have one less annoying thing to hear.

Damian slipped off the stool and crossed the room, picking up the phone. Usually he let the butler take these calls, but he didn't care if it was really personal or not.

"What do you want." The boy answered in a less than friendly voice. He leaned against the fridge, other arm crossed.

There was nothing at first. Slight, suspicious muffling sounds. It was like someone was crinkling a jacket over the receiver. Then, a most unfamiliar voice spoke.

"Go on, tell him." It was smooth, like a fine wine, but at the end of the sentence it broke into a crackling tone. It was obviously an older man, probably around Bruce's age. It spoke with such malice that right after the first word, Damian had narrowed his eyes and crossed the room, further into the kitchen.

Another scuffle over the receiver and it led to another voice. But this one was familiar. _Very _familiar.

"Damian…"

It was Tim.

A sound came over as if he were clearing his voice.

But the 10-year old had already heard the tone that word had held. It was annoying, yes, because Drake's voice was _always _annoying.

Damian also heard what was edging the voice though and it was something he hadn't heard very often in his older brother's voice.

It was_ pain. _

He knew no matter how much the other tried to clear his voice, it wouldn't hold off. Because pain was not an emotion. Well, not fully anyway. It was a physical reaction of your senses to the situation you were put into. It would not go away with a simple cough.

It must have been seconds after that voice Damian snapped back to reality when he heard a sharp cry of his brother's voice. His hand tensed on the phone _slightly_.

"Drake," His voice didn't come off biting enough so he tried again, "Drake where the hell are you?"

_That sounded more like him. _

Damian was walking, no, _jogging, _down the hall in search for his father now. Surely he would want to hear this. He would know what to do.

The other voice then came back on.

"If you tell the _Batman _I'll skin this demon right here. He can wait until... _after _our little chat." The words cut through the 10-year old, and to his own surprise, he stopped in his tracks.

_What the hell is your problem, move!_

But Damian's feet wouldn't listen to him.

There was a low chuckle over the other end then, as this unknown kidnapper was obviously pleased with the boy's decision.

And Damian _hated _it.

"I'm the one who decides if he lives or dies." The voice spoke, "What else can a mere man do to a devil than to do everything in his power to make sure he doesn't get any help from his Hell Clan. I want you all to see what happens to _your kind._"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Damian demanded, "You must be _stupid _to think this was a good idea." He sneered as he tried to get himself down the hall. Bruce would be in the Batcave, right? He wouldn't be out- if only he could get him to _pick up the phone._

Tim was suddenly back on the line. His breathing he was uneven and heavy.

_Liquid must be in his lungs_, Damian thought to himself before he was once again pulled from his thoughts.

"Damian… tell Bruce…" He trailed off, growing silent as he paused. Even his breathing had stopped. There was some scuffling sounds on the other end.

"Drake?" The 10-year old questioned, narrowing his eyes.

At the same time, a sharp intake of breath and labored huffs after. It was mixed with coughs and sputters.

The unfamiliar voice was further back but still loud and clear.

"Go on. _Invite them_." It growled.

"Drake, what's going on?" Damian held the phone with two hands now. No way were his legs going to move him now, "What is he doing?"

_Was that worry? Stop being such a pussy, _the young ebony thought bitterly to himself.

"665… River Run Drive…. tell Bruce… 665 River Run Drive." Tim's voice was forced over the phone.

_665 River Run Drive_, Damian repeated in his head over and over again before he knew it would be impossible to forget and time soon.

"I… I got it." The boy said.

"Good." The man's voice expressed the smile that he was holding in his face.

Then, the line went dead.

Completely dead.

There was just the drone dial tone and the words 'Call Ended' blinked across the small screen of the phone.

Damian looked at the blinking words, taking in air and releasing it.

_That pain edged into Tim's voice… he had never heard that before._

He called him a demon- what the hell is this guy's issue?

He closed his eyes tight before reopening them and coming back to his steely resolve. His legs then started moving forward. It was slow at first, only a walk as he headed down the hall.

Then, it turned into a brisk walk as he rounded the corner.

He broke into a run as he darted into Bruce's office and pulled the dial from grandfather clock forward. The clock moved exposing the Batcave entrance. The ebony took off down the stairs, his grip tight on the phone still.

_For as much as he hated Drake._

He was jogging down the stairs.

_For as much he despised the others thinking he cares._

He could see the figure of his father in the chair at the Bat computer.

_And for as much it'd kill him if Drake ever knew he did care, even if it was only little._

The ebony grabbed the banister and swung around.

_Damian Wayne knew he was going to save his older brother._

Bruce glanced back as the 10-year old hit the last step and came to the cave's stone and metal flooring. He looked mildly surprised, but that was gone in a flash and replaced with his expressionless face.

"Father," Damian spoke first, "I've decided I'm back on the case. And I know exactly where we need to go."

_After all, the only person who can mess with Drake, was him. _

* * *

**Also, new poll up. I'm interested to see what stories people would like to see updated the quickest. You can vote or just send me a message. Right now I've just been going on whatever I'm inspired to write, but I'm going to try and update other stories quicker and get them finished. Thanks for reading and hope you've enjoyed so far!  
AMW**_  
_


	10. Insanity

**Finally! This took a while to update. I was so stumped for the torture scene, but I think it turned out alright. This is an all Tim chapter, since I figured we haven't checked in with him in a while. So here are things on Tim's end. I have to say, I actually enjoy Joseph Hench a lot. Not the fact that he's hurting Tim, but I've been thinking about his back-story and how he's like slowly going insane. It's kind of sad. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy! Reviews are loved and cherished!**

**I do not own any of these characters (except Joseph Hench). **

* * *

Tim could hear the drone of the call when his captor hung up. It buzzed in his ear and beat into the back of his mind. He felt the large hand slowly release his grip on his neck. Air flew back into his lungs and he took in a few gulps of air.

He could feel dark bruises forming on his exposed skin.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Joseph leaned in, his hot breath on the teen's face. He patted the ebony's cheek a couple times with his fingertips before standing and crossing the room.

Tim's breathing was still labored, and he tried to turn to his captor. He pulled at his restraints.

"Where did you tell them to go?" demanded the boy, his blue eyes dark and distrusting.

The man didn't turn, but continued walking, "Somewhere that'll show them that you're still alive. If they can survive, that is."

Tim narrowed his eyes, teeth clenched. Dark circles were under his eyes even though he had been unconscious. He knew from experience that being unconscious and sleeping were two entirely different things.

_When one is unconscious, they never are at rest. Their mind may have blacked out, but their body is still conscious._

Bruce's words ran through the ebony's head before disappearing off to the back of his mind.

"What…" Tim trailed off, pausing, before glancing back up at his captor, "What do you mean if they survive that long?"

Joseph smirked, although his back was turned. He was back in the tool box, shifting through what sounded like metal objects. He set a few items on the table next to the metal box. He added more and more to his collection as he went. And he did not reply.

The 17-year old was observing the tools now. His eyes shifted to one.

_Pliers._

He looked quickly to another.

It looked like some sort of instrument a patient might see before oral surgery. Almost like a mouth clamp.

Joseph reached in and brought out another device, one that Tim could recognized right away.

_Is that my taser; _thought the ebony as he looked back at the man. The kidnapper turned on his heel, a sharp _creak_ as he did so.

"Last chance, demon," He said, striding back to the chair, "You can either confess to your sins and accept the punishment, or I can and _will _make this _very _painful for you." He crouched to the boy so he was directly on eye level.

Tim stared directly back and narrowed his eyes.

"I didn't _do _anything. There's nothing to confess to." He said very calmly, forcing his voice strong while managing the pain from his torso.

"Oh _really?_" Joseph chuckled as he averted his eyes an object in his hand. It was then when the teen realized he had brought the taser with him.

"Yes." The ebony answered seriously, "And you're making a huge mistake. If you just put the taser down and let me go, I can get you _help. _We can find the man who killed your family, I promise." He offered hopefully.

Joseph was still observing the taser, fingers trailing over the switch that regulated the power.

"Pity. I always imagined the man who killed my wife and child would be honest about it. This could go much smoother if you just admitted to the crime." He stood.

His finger flicked the taser on, electric currents shooting through the tip of it, "You use this on the mutants you fight, hm? How much do you think a devil can take?" The man put his other hand lightly on the blue-eyed boy's shoulder.

Tim stiffened but shoved down his racing heartbeat so he could speak properly, "Joseph I _swear _to you I didn't kill them. And I'm sorry they were taken from you, but you can't do this. You have to let the law handle it." He tried to reason, "I know what it's like to lose someone close to you and it really hurts, right?" He swallowed and looked up at his captor as the figure was still standing there with a spaced out look on his eyes.

"_Right?" _Tim tried again.

Joseph reached up and slowly turned the dial to medium power, "I applause you on your effort, but my mind is made up."

He then shoved the taser into the ebony's back.

It felt like someone was pressing a blazing metal rod through Tim. His whole body jerked back from the sudden assault and he clenched his teeth so he wouldn't let out a cry.

He couldn't let his captor know how much is hurt.

And it hurt a _lot. _

When Joseph finally pulled the device back, beads of sweat were forming across the ebony's forehead and temples. He took in a couple pants and closed his eyes, attempting to keep his breathing even. With unstable injuries near his lungs, he couldn't risk a puncture.

"So tell me how it felt devil; to know you let two innocent people die." Joseph growled, as he grabbed the blue-eyed boy's hair and yanked his head back. He leaned in close to his face, the taser on the other side, sparks flying off it.

"_Well?_" He hissed.

"I don't know… what you're talking about," Tim grunted, forced to look up into the man's eyes. His stomach turned as he read all the emotions they held.

Anger, frustration, hurt, pain, conflict.

But that didn't surprise the ebony. No, he had seen those emotions in many criminal's eyes and it wasn't as threatening as what was layered all of these things.

In his captor's eyes, he could read the _joy _he was getting out of his. The happiness and enjoyment he was going to _get _throughout this scene and the sick twisted revenge he felt he was getting.

_He's insane, _Tim realized then, _he honestly believes this is the right thing to do._

But he was cut from his thoughts as Joseph pressed the taser into his chest, turning the power dial higher. The ebony's head pressed into the hand as his eyes squeezed shut tight until he could see white sparks forming in the darkness.

"They _burned_," Joseph shouted directly into the teen's face, "They burned and _you let it happen! _Do you have any idea what it's like to hear their screams _constantly_? To have them screaming out to _save them_ and you can't do a _thing about it!" _He spat viciously.

Tim felt tears forming at the corners of his eyes but he still didn't open his eyes or allow a sound to part his lips. He could feel his fingers twitching violently from the excess energy and the shocks that were shooting through every inch of his body. His feet were lifting off the ground uncontrollable as he was tensing more and more, trying to curl up but knowing he couldn't.

Again, the taser was yanked from its connection with the 17-year old and the hand released its grip from his hair. Tim fell limp against his restraints, breathing hard and trying to suck in air as he realized he wasn't breathing that entire time. His hair clung to his forehead, hiding his eyes that were still closed. He could hear the taser being turned off.

Joseph once again crouched close to the ebony. His hand gently raised the boy's chin with his fingertips.

Tim was taking slower breaths and he cracked his eyes open, a stray tear running down the side of his face. His fingers kept twitching and he could feel the aftermath of the shocks running down his spine.

"Do you have any idea… how _hard _that is…?" The man asked softly, grazing the roughness of his thumb-pad over the blue-eyed boy's cheek and wiping away the tear.

Tim parted his lips that were crusted in cry blood, "I'm sorry…" He whispered, "I really am."

Joseph stared into his eyes and then gave off a sickly smirk, "You will be. I promise you _will be._"

He then pressed the taser into the 17-year old's stomach, thumb over the dial.

"Joseph," Tim tried with one last whisper, "You don't need to do this. _Please._" He swallowed back a mix of blood residue and bile.

There was a pause in the captor's hand as his smirk faded and he watched the ebony with almost an apologetic look in his eyes, "Yes... I do." He then flicked the taser on.

* * *

**Note: I have no idea how old I made Tim at the start of this Fic. I don't think I really said, did I? I can't remember if it was 16 or 17... if messed up his age let me know though!**

**Also, poll is up for what story should be updated the quickest. Probably going to work on Trigger Point after this. I need to get my dramatic stuff out of me so I don't make this Fic too emotional. **

**Thanks for reading!  
AMW**


	11. Answering Reader Questions And Concerns

Hello there readers!

I know, I know, I need to stop posting things that _aren't _chapters, but I just thought I'd clear up some things so my author notes don't get too long (which they tend to do).

There's some confusion here because I'm an idiot and I don't reread what I wrote in early chapters. I'm not going to name some of the people though. So here are some frequently asked questions and concerns about this story and here are the answers for them!

1: _I don't understand this story because Stephanie, Conner, and Jack Drake are all supposed to be dead._

Yes I am aware of that. I don't read many comics, but I've read dozens of pages on the characters and all that fun. However, I thought this would be a good story to play characters I don't usually play. Also, my universe for this story isn't the same as the comics. Little details have been changed (I blame my role play), so just to clarify, things are going to be a tad bit different. I know this might be a little annoying for some people, but don't worry; it's not much different than the comic universe.

2: _"wait. in chapter one it stated tim's dad was still alive-he called wondering where tim was. but in this chapter damian musing to himself said it was technically "timothy wayne" meaning he was adopted...but tim is still living with his still-alive biological father? ?" _– _LuVySoNy_

The only reason I quoted this one is because I couldn't believe someone caught this. Like seriously, the attention to detail is amazing. Just to clear this up, as I said before this is a separate universe. So my plan was more or less, Jack isn't a great father. He gets into some shady business and long story short; Bruce adopts Tim, but still allows him to see his father. I know, again, it's not what the comics did exactly and I probably should have mentioned this earlier that I was going to change some things around. Anyway, I hope this answers your question LuVySoNy! And thanks for bringing it to my attention! C:

3: _I think you are overplaying the 'God' card in this. You're making Christians seem like nut jobs and it's a little offensive. _

This was a very strange message I got one day. I won't say who sent it, but the person was actually very upset at me. So let me just make one thing clear:

This story is not a 'jab' at anyone. 

I'm not entirely sure how to answer this one, but I'll try. I didn't think this would offend anyone. Honestly if I saw a guy dressed up as a bat and hated him I might think he was evil too. You have to keep in mind that Joseph Hench is _crazy_. And even more importantly, you have to keep in mind this is a Fanfic written by girl who just enjoys Batman and DC comics in general. It's written for fun and for the people who would like to know what happens. I'm sorry if I offended you, but this wasn't my intention.

4: _You made typos in your last chapter. _

Oh how I love getting these messages. And no, that wasn't sarcasm, because I always say if someone catches a typo to let me know. It actually helps and makes me read through my chapter better before I post it (I am extremely lazy when it comes to reading my own work). This one is more of an apology for making so many mistakes. It's not that I don't know how to spell (I'm one of those people who has to look up how to spell a word if I don't know how to spell it), it's just that I get too excited when I post something. I want to get the chapters as quick as I can for you guys! So for all of you have been pointing out the typos, thank you!

5: _I love this story! You did a really great job on the characters- especially Jason Todd! _

Yes it's true, as much as I would like to play Jason amazingly, that great work goes to schubskie. I can't play Jason for the life of me, so I'm grateful to have her! Basically, I email her with about what's supposed to happen and we play it out with the characters (mostly basic actions and dialogue only). Once we're done with the scene I put it in a document and basically revise it by making it longer and putting more detail into it. So as much as I would like to take credit for the lovely Jason in this story, it is schubskie's fault he's so wonderfully badass.

So those are the five basic concerns people have brought to my attention. If you have any more questions or anything, just send a message and I'll definitely reply! Most importantly, I just wanted to thank you all for the favorites, follows, and reviews! It really means a lot and makes me more confident and wanting to update quicker for you guys! If there's anything you would all like to see in the future chapters, whether it's more attention to a character or more bonding, just let me know and I'll write it in.

Until then, as always, have a great day!  
AMW


	12. Motive

**Look! I'm not an awful person, I said I was going to update and I actually did! :D I'm so proud. But seriously, it's almost midnight so I hope you all know I'm slaving to get these chapters out for you guys. It is NOT easy to write something that has to make sense to other people. xD **

**A special thanks to schubskie for writing the Jason parts, it was fun to write another chapter with you buddy! I'm so proud of us for finishing it tonight. C:**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**

**I do not own any of these characters but Joseph Hench and the Hench family. **

* * *

The storm that was over Gotham for the past couple hours was finally dispersing. It was nearing 2 A.M. that next morning. It was still early.

The chilly air outside made the warm heat from the small local café even more enjoyable. Not many people were in at this time; in fact not even the young man at the register seemed to be there entirely. He would rest his palm against his cheek and stare vacantly across the shop, either very good at doing nothing, learning how to sleep with his eyes open, or on some sort of drug. In Gotham, it was never clear.

Two young men were in the back of the café, sitting in the high stools by a long bay window. The rain drizzled lightly with the soft jazz music playing the background.  
The older of the two was tapping his fingers against the tabletop. It made a rhythm of _clinks! _as it connected, moving mindlessly.

A sleek black computer was placed in front of him. The screen was blue and switching through constant matches for the blood sample that was collected. One of them was definitely Tim's, and the computer recognized that. However, while it was 92% of the sample that was found, another 5% percent was rainwater. That left 3% of a liquid substance that was unknown.

Dick wasn't sure what he was hoping it was. Maybe another blood sample that they could identify. That would make this a lot easier to find the suspect. But flashbacks to the crime scene were making that hard to believe. It would be nearly impossible for Tim to defend himself with a fall like that and all those broken bones.

He felt his stomach knot and his fingers stopped tapping. His other hand was through his hair, gripping it a little tighter as he remembered the scene.

With a fall like that… their time could be limited. It probably _was _limited, and they were running out of it quick.

Jason sat with his forearms on the table, a cylinder of coffee or some black liquid to the right of his right hand. But his face was watching the darkness outside. As if something would materialize out of it.

_Someone._

His older brother glanced at him after a couple more minutes of silence passed. His face expression changed slightly to a soft frown and he set his computer to the side. The soft blue glow reflected off the window now instead.

"Need more coffee?"

_Not one of your better conversation starters but you could have done worse, _he thought to himself as he followed his brother's gaze.

"No." It was blunt.

Dick shifted a little, looking around. His gaze came back to his little brother after a couple moments though, a small frown gracing his features. He released a heavy sigh; like there was a weight on his chest and he couldn't get it off.

"Look." He leaned in a little here, "I know you don't want to hear this. But we're a team now. And teammates sort of include each other on what they're thinking." He gestured between the two of them with the hand that had been tapping the counter top before.

Jason's eyes wavered off the window, but it still looked like a haunting gaze in his eyes. He never stopped watching the dark.

"Dick…you idiot…." He muttered before pausing for a moment. He decided against it though in the very next moment and waved a hand back carelessly, "Just get back to locating coordinates or whatever; I'll be fine."

"It's the blood sample we took." He corrected his little brother before looking back to the computer screen anyway. It was still verifying, searching through all criminal records and blood tests from every hospital in Gotham, and then slowly spreading to the neighboring cities, states, and even countries. It was blinking slowly as it worked.

His blue eyes looked back to the younger and he gave an encouraging smile, "We have time."

There were a couple moments, where neither one of them moved nor spoke a word. Then, finally, the younger ebony tore his gaze away from the window. He brought it to his brother's, as if proving his point.

"I'm fine." He grunted.

Dick was the one who averted his eyes this time. He knew he and Jason weren't on the best terms still. He couldn't press something like this. He was lucky enough he had even agreed to help him. The 24-year old shifted a hand to the back of his neck. His fingers curled.

"Ok. Sorry." He muttered.

Jason stood then, "I'm going to dump this out." He picked up his cup of coffee, even though it was still half full. He walked over to the trash.

His older brother watched him go. He sighed once more and glanced at the computer, resting a hand against his cheek.

At the same time, it blinked with two green boxed in words:

_Match Found. _

The Bat's eldest son felt his heart stop he quickly sat back up He grabbed the laptop as more information was popping up on the screen now.

_Name: Joseph Milton Hench_

Origin: Gotham City

Parents: Christopher Hench, Ruby Hench (deceased)

Family: Mary-Beth Hench (deceased), Jonathon Hench (deceased)

Criminal record: None

Dick widened his eyes. Articles from newspapers and news channels were coming up. From across the room, he could feel his little brother's gaze turn to him. He walked back to the older and to the bay window. He closed his eyes a little.

_What hurt's more? A? Or B?_

Jason shoved the thoughts away and continued on, stoic faced.

"What is it," the ebony asked from behind his brother.

Dick put his hands through his hair. His blue eyes were shooting over the text the computer was feeding him now. It got worse and worse with each word. A sickening thought came into mind as he realized what this was.

_Motive._

"It's… It's…" He couldn't form a proper sentence at first. He shook his head and started over again, "I know this guy. I mean _we _know this. Me, Bruce, and Tim. He was one of the victims from a rampage Joker went on a couple years ago. His house was torched and Tim was on rescue duty…" He trailed off though.

The 24-year old gripped his hair, "This is his motive. This is why he went after Tim." He closed his eyes.

"What? I thought you said Tim saved him."

_Forehand? Or backhand?_

Jason once again had to shake his head to clear it.

"He did…But Joseph had a wife and son." Dick muttered, "The house… it collapsed… before he could get to them. There was nothing we could do – Tim was only 13 at the time and it…. It was the first time he couldn't save someone in time."

_I suppose I'm going to have to teach you a lesson-_

"Sounds like Dent but-"

_-so you can better follow in his footsteps-_

"…without the uhh…"

_Nah, I'm just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar._

"I mean with the-"

Uncharacteristically, he froze. There was moment where Dick frowned and looked over his shoulder.

"I need to go outside." Jason turned. His boots clunked against the tile floor as he came to the door. He pushed his way out with one shoulder.

"Jason wait," Dick was already standing. He looked back when his computer beeped again.

It was an address.

_665 River Run Drive._

He knew where that was.

With that, the ebony snapped the computer shut. He picked it up and wrapped it under his jacket. The 24-year old zipped up his jacket and jogged after his brother.

He gave a quick nod to the spaced out boy at the register before pushing his way through the glass door with his back, "Jay!" He called.

Jason was standing in the rain, even though there was an awning just over the door. He stood a couple feet away from it though.

He glanced back, his face pale in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

Dick frowned and came to a stop, "Are you ok? You ran out there pretty suddenly." He asked. He had enough of a brain left in his head to keep his distance though. He and Jason were not friends, even though he wanted to be. He had to remember that though.

_This was going to be harder than he thought._

But his heart was still racing. He had a suspect for his little brother's kidnapping. And with Jason's help, they could take him down.

"Yeah, what is it?" The younger turned all the way. He put on his best air of indifference, and it was hard to tell he was acting at all.

But Dick could tell.

He didn't act upon it though. Instead, he blinked and slipped his computer out from under his zipped up jacket. He held it out, gesturing to the device.

"We have an address." He said dumbly, suddenly unable to explain anything he wanted to."

Jason looked up at him. His eyes masked something, but it was hard to tell exactly what it was. The rain poured down on his head, while his older brother remained completely dry from the awning above him.

The downpour was now separating the two ebonies.

"Alright." Jason looked back into the darkness, as if looking for something, "Let's go."

* * *

**So there is it folks! Hope you enjoyed, and I'll try to update a little quicker next chapter. Thanks for reading!**

**As always, have a great day!  
AMW  
**


	13. Sinking

**Ughh... this is a gross chapter. Just to warn everyone. Figured we should check up on Timmy...this is what happens when I listen to horror music while writing. ANYWAY, hope you guys enjoy. Finally getting somewhere in this story! Although I don't see it ending any time soon. So, hope you guys can all stick with me to see Tim through! **

**I do not own any of the characters (except the Hench Family). **

**Review are loved and hugged. **

* * *

_The doorbell rang at Wayne Manor. The elderly butler answered it of course, drawing a suspicious and surprised eyebrow to who was on the other side._

_In the pouring rain and soaked to the bone was a young raven-haired boy; no more than 12-years old. He had a backpack strapped tightly on, his fingers gripping around the left strap nervously._

_"Is Mr. Wayne in? This is really important." He spoke in a small voice, trembling from the cold and wet._

_Little did the boy know that Alfred Pennyworth was not one to turn down such a guest in this kind of weather. He very promptly stepped to the side._

_"He is in the study; do come in and I shall get you some towels." He offered politely._

_The ebony ducked his head a little in and gave an embarrassed grin, "Thank you." As he stepped into the house, he didn't bother to gaze in wonder at the lavished furniture. He already knew how billionaire Bruce Wayne lived- going to social parties and dining at the most expensive restaurants._

_No. That wasn't what interested the 12-year old._

_He nodded and smiled his thanks when the butler handed him the towels and started to dry off his face and hair._

_That's when Bruce Wayne stepped in._

_And he was even taller than the boy had imagined. Well, maybe he was the right height. But the ears could have add even more height._

_Bruce towered over the ebony, hands in his suit pocket. Dark eyes that were the same color as his dark brown hair; and the boy knew that the suit couldn't hide all of those scars. He tried to ignore it when the man narrowed his eyes at him._

_"Who are you." When his voice came out, it sounded like those voices you would hear on tapes when they read stories. In fact, the ebony was surprised he hadn't done that already, being a famous billionaire and all._

_Wait, he asked a question._

_"T-Tim Drake." The 12-year old dared to look up and meet his eyes, "I know you're Batman."_

* * *

"…Bat….Batman…" Tim murmured through cracked lips. His head was tilted forward, hair covering his eyes. He was first aware of the terrible smell that now filled the cabin. It was far worse than it had been before. Or was it? He couldn't exactly remember much… what happened again?

Tim combed back through his memory as his head was throbbing.

_Kidnapped. That's what came first. But how?_

He couldn't remember. Something about falling off a building… or something like that. Moving on.

_Driven in a car to an abandon cabin. Where? And were there other people living nearby?_

He would have to test it out.

_Next, Joseph Hench. The man who kidnapped him, who thought he had killed his family- a wife and son. But that couldn't be right… could it? There was no way he would kill someone; and did he say something about making him watch them burn alive?_

Once again, Tim was searching his memory, but he couldn't think of anything that fit the description. _The name sounded familiar though…_

A small groan escaped his lips, feeling the burned skin that lined every muscle on his stomach and back. He could easily remember what came after that. In fact, the ebony was surprised he even woke this early from a session like that.

_Wait, how long had it been?_

Tim's head ached again and he decided it didn't matter. He had played his captor's games enough now to understand what kind of man he was.

_Crazy. _

Tim Drake wasn't going to wait any longer, it was time for action.

He slowly picked up his head, his bangs blocking part of his sight. His vision began to darken and swim, blurring every which way.

Dehydration most likely. Come to think of it, he was surprised he hasn't started to feel hungry. He had to have been captured for a number of days now, three at most he figured.

_No Tim, focus. Wait, why hadn't Joseph seen him wake up?_

Tim glanced around the room and realized the look alike monk was gone. He felt like an idiot; he should have noticed right when he woke up. But no time to be concerned about that now, he had to find a way out.

Craning his neck around, Tim was able to see directly behind him. There was the entrance of the cabin, which he could see the giant lock latch that kept the doors shut. No way could he get out that way, not in his condition anyway. The ebony's eyes were trailing slowly around the room, studying the old furniture around him.

Wooden benches and piles of firewood.

An old fireplace that looked like it hadn't worked in ages.

An assortment of tools that Tim quickly looked away from – he had to get out before he found out what those did. Or rather, what Joseph would use them for.

Tim then spotted something interesting in the far back room of the cabin. It looked to be made out of lime stone, the rock glinting off from the low light of the light bulb hanging over his head.

His gray-blue eyes widened.

_A gravestone? What the hell is a gravestone doing in here? And God what is that smell?_

The ebony shook his head to clear that last part and instead squinted hard to see what the inscription read.

-_Beth Hench_

-2015

He could only get half of what was written due to the other half of the tomb being hidden with an old and musty cloth.

Tim blinked slowly.

_That name… sounded familiar… was the first part of the name Mary? Wait, how do I know that?_

Just then, there was a loud _shink! _as the front door unlocked.

The teen widened his eyes and looked back. It was dark outside, but he could still make out the outline of his captor. His stomach knotted together as the double doors were closed once more and locked.

Tim directed his head back in front of him, closing his eyes as he could hear the footsteps that landed like weights against the flooring draw nearer.

"Looks like someone woke up," Joseph's voice came from somewhere in the far back corner of the room.

Or... maybe that's where it came from.

Tim couldn't tell exactly where from due to the dried blood that was clogging his ears. There were a few tense moments where he didn't hear anymore movement. The ebony dug his fingernails into his palm slightly as he slowly went to look back.

Suddenly, a hand was at the back of his neck and gripping it tight. Tim jumped slightly, giving a small gasp in alarm. He then closed his eyes once more and forced himself to relax as he felt the man lean in.

"Are you enjoying the company I brought you?" Joseph's voice was soft and held a tight smile over the laced words. The hand trailed off his neck and up into his hair.

Tim clenched his teeth as his captor gripped his hair tight, yanking his head to the left. He looked up with hate burning in his eyes.

Joseph wasn't looking at him though. He was looking into the dark part of the cabin, where the single bulb could not illuminate due to the massive shadows cast by the work bench.

The ebony followed his gaze as the man reached above his head and took hold of the bulb on the chain. He then pointed it into the dark corner.

Tim's eyes widened, fighting against his gag reflex to vomit. It suddenly all fit together. The horrible smell and the reason why no one had heard him while Joseph was torturing him.

Bodies were piled up on each other. Or, at least what was left of them. They were cut up; they were only body _parts _now. Arms, and legs, and – Oh god was that a head?

Tim closed his eyes tight. Tight enough to the point he saw bright specs fly around and his head pulse around them. He didn't want to look at this. He _couldn't _look at this. It was too much. What Joseph _did _to these people was too much.

"They come around the woods, just having a good time and playing. But we both know people make foolish choices, and we couldn't have them finding you." Joseph sneered, yanking the ebony's head back by his hair. His lip curled when he saw the teen's face.

"Look at them boy," He growled, shoving his hostage's head forward by the hair and forcing it to stay there.

Tim didn't though. He w_asn't _going to play into this madman's games; he wasn't going to look at those poor mangled people.

"I said _look at them!_" Joseph snapped.

Tim gritted his teeth as he kept his eyes tight shut, "_No!" _

_Whrack!_

The hand was out of his hair and sent a fist across his face so quick; the 17-year old was seeing stars.

Joseph then crouched down and leaned in close to his ear. He breathed in deeply, "I understand you want to be this _big brave_ _boy_, but if you don't open your damn eyes you'll be seeing some _familiar _bodies in this pile next." His breath was hot, and between that and the smell of the rotting body parts, Tim leaned over to the side and vomited.

About halfway through, he felt Joseph stand up once more. The ebony didn't stop until his eyes were leaking water and his body was shaking from the lack of nutrients entering his body and the amount of effort he put into it.

Still trembling, Tim cracked his eyes open. He could barely see anything due to the tears, but his head picked up a little to look at the human remains.

He could sense his captor smile from behind him as he moved the bulb so the teen could get a better look.

Tim swallowed back bile as he noticed one of the hands was small – probably belonging to a child. There was a moment where his vision flashed and instead of seeing the remains of the strangers, he saw the remains of his family.

An arm from Bruce.

A leg from Dick.

A hand from Jason.

Two shoulders that looked like Alfred's.

An ear that was Stephanie's.

A foot that belonged to Barbara.

Tim's breathing was hitching and shaking as he slowly looked down.

It was Damian's head.

Then, in the next flash, they parts returned to normal where they were unrecognizable. The 17-year old closed his eyes once more. A tear rolled down his cheek and down his chin.

Joseph was suddenly close behind him again and leaned in, setting a hand on his shoulder. The next words he spoke were with pure menace.

"Now you know how I felt when I had to see the remains of my family."

* * *

Dick and Jason had come up the stairs of the old shack-like house. This was the address, 665 River Run Drive. The 24-year old glanced around as the trash that was gathered on the lawn and on the worn down porch. It was mostly things like old bicycles and wire fencing that was stored in a pile.

Jason was the one who reached for the handle first.

It was unlocked.

The two exchanged glances before heading inside.

The moment Dick stepped into the house, his eyes widened. His little brother narrowed his eyes though and closed the door behind them.

"What the hell."

* * *

**So there we go! Sort of a cliffhanger, but not a huge one. I'll be seeing you guys next chapter with my buddy schubskie, who is going on this magical adventure with us. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed- we reached 50! It means so much, and it also gets me off my lazy ass to write some more. Let me know what you think of the story so far!**

**Thanks for reading and have a great day! C:  
AMW**


	14. Static

**SHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You guys can't say ANYTHING! AARGH I took like three hours just to revise this; I already had the dialogue and basic actions written out and it STILL took forever. **

**ANYWAY. Just want to go over something. You guys don't have to write a review and just say 'update!', if I haven't updated in a while. Because don't worry, this story and Trigger Point I'm going to see out until the end. I mean, if you want to you can, but don't feel like you HAVE to because if you don't I won't update. **

**And... sorry it took so long. But I've been super busy and super uninspired. A special thanks to schubskie for writing such a long Jason part! (serious we wrote out TWO chapters worth!) I didn't read over this since I was so pissed and so DONE with it by the time I finished. So please ignore any typos and try not to let them ruin the story. =D**

**Reviews are loved and hugged and make this torture feel worth it!**

* * *

"_What the hell."_

Robin glanced over his shoulder, hearing these three words spoken. He knew very well who it was, and wasn't surprised to see Dick and Jason standing there, either disturbed or in shock.

Not for the fact that he and Batman where here, but the fact at what was _around _them. The room's walls were covered with papers and pictures. _All _of Red Robin.

Through the days he was Robin, to the present; they were connected by strings and next to each picture was a small map where the picture was taken. There was one large map placed in the back wall, which was covered in small circles and had pins sticking into it at different places. It was a map of Gotham.

Batman was standing in front of some of the hanging pictures; scanning for finger prints to see how long ago Joseph left this place.

It was obvious he hadn't been here in a while.

There were two decaying bodies in the corner of the room, leaned against the doorway that led into another room. It looked like they had been killed through a gash straight across the throat.

Jason gave one look around the room, eyes becoming harder to read once again. He walked further into the building, "It reeks."

A board creaked under one of his boots as he narrowed his eyes at the bodies.

"Good to see you again too Todd," Robin said sarcastically, crossing his arms and giving him a dirty look.

Dick, meanwhile, was still getting over how much this guy had stalked his little brother before capturing him. It had to have been for years; ever since his wife and child died. His stomach churned as he came into the middle room, looking around him. Momentarily, he remembered that he and Bruce had not left on the best terms, and he should still show that this was a reluctant partnership.

"What… what the hell is all this?" He said instead, his tone clearly showing his discomfort.

"Tt. Drake's fangirl." Robin stated from his position, leaning against the doorway the bodies were right next too. He didn't seem the slightest concerned for them though; or the smell for that matter.

Jason was showing his annoyance that _Batman _had been the one to reply to his remark. His lip curled up a little and he snorted. The boots made a _clunk! _sound as he stalked out of the room with a sneer, mumbling something about how he'd check out the other rooms.

Batman, however, pretended not to notice. Dick sighed, watching his little brother leave the room. The ebony looked to his mentor and frowning a bit more, walked over to speak to him more privately.

"So…" He looked at the map, then to the man, "I'm assuming you know who's doing this."

"Joseph Hench."

"Think it's because of… well, you know."

The Dark Knight paused and looked to his eldest son. His face expression didn't change as he glanced back to the map. He placed a gloved finger on one of the circles and traced it to the next. His eyes narrowed.

"He was following the patrol patterns." His voice was blunt and suspicious.

Dick blinked and looked back to the wall. His blue eyes scanned over the areas and realized that Batman was right; this guy had been watching for a while now.

Enough to feel confident in where Tim would be that night.

"How? Aren't they random for the most part?" The ebony's eyes turned to his mentor once more.

"For the _most part, _yes. But he didn't just follow them for a week or a month. It looks like at least a year," Batman looked down the line of maps across the wall, then to the pile that had been collected across the floor and tables. There were hundreds and hundreds of papers and pictures, studying everything about Red Robin; his suit, his schedule, his weapons, his _life _in general.

It sent chills up Dick's spine and he forced his eyes to stay on the map. He wondered if Bruce was thinking the same thing he was. He wondered if Tim would remember who Joseph was and why the man was obsessed with him.

_How could he? We erased his memories. You _allowed _Bruce to erase your little brother's memory of it-_

CRASH!

Batman and Dick both pricked and whipped their heads in that direction. Light dust was coming from the next room over. They exchanged glances before running out of the room to check it out.

Robin watched them go. He gave an annoyed groan and stood from his crouch position by one of the bodies. He tossed the batarang he had been poking it with into the ground and it stuck into the ground. The boy stalked out of the room grumbling under his breath. As he came into the next room, his spoke with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, irritation written clearer across his face.

"Todd what are you messing up now-?" He cut himself off when he opened one of his masked eyes and saw the giant gaping hole that was now in the middle of the empty room. The dust was settling once again.

Dick was crouched by the hole, "Jason!" He called, cupping his hand around his mouth, "Are you ok?!"

Batman was knelt next to him, withdrawing his flashlight from his belt. He flicked the ray of light and pointed it down into the darkness, though the rubble made it hard to see still.

"What an idiot," Robin scoffed, walking over. He withdrew his flashlight as well and looked in with a seemingly bored look on his face.

Jason's cough was heard from the darkness below. The ebony shifted and picked his hand up, slowly pressing his hands into the ground; it felt like cry clay and sand.

He shook his black strands out.

"Why the hell…." He glanced around, eyes narrowing.

In the darkness, there were outlines of cases of old books and papers all stacked around the walls. It could only be seen by the filtered in light. There was light coating of dust on all of them now; cobwebs attaching their invisible strands from the rocky walls. Connected to the ditch was a narrow passage that seemed to go down like a hallway. The boxers were lining the dirt walls there as well.

Then, Batman's figure came down and landed behind the ebony, followed by Dick and then Robin. The three glanced around, though the Dark Knight's eyes stayed on the passage as soon as he spotted it.

"Oh great. More reading." Robin said unenthusiastically.

"Jason," Batman cut him off right at the end though, "You're with me. You two, start going through those." He ordered, heading down the passage without a second glance back.

"Oh no way," Jason shot back then, "_I work alone._"

"Then don't come at all," The Caped Crusader's voice carried down, his figure already disappearing into the dark.

Dick frowned and looked to his brother, "Jason, just go," He spoke lowly, "Don't do it for _him. _Do it for Tim, ok?"

"On second thought, don't go." Robin smirked to himself. The 10-year old was leaned against one of the higher stacks of boxes. His fingers were already flipping through a book nonchalantly.

This earned a scolding look from his eldest brother.

Jason gritted his teeth, "I hate him." He growled, stalking past begrudgingly.

Dick watched them go with a concerned frown. He then sighed and picked up a book. He brushed the dust coating it with his palm before opening it and flipping through the yellow tinted pages.

* * *

Jason walked stoically. He seemed to be paying no mind to anything or anyone. Instead, he focused on glaring ahead into the darkness of the long passage.  
Batman's figure was barely made out in the darkness. Dick and Robin's voices were slowly fading out as they continued further. The stacks of papers and boxes were lessening. The walls were coming closer together, though the two didn't take a step closer to each other. Soon, the only thing that broke the silence between them was their footsteps as they hit the sandy ground.

_Tak, tak._

_Tak, tak._

_Tak, tak._

_Tak, tak._

_Tak, tak._

Their footsteps sounded similar. The sand did little to deplete the sound and it echoed down the passage. But an echo was good. It meant the sound had to be reflecting back. It meant they were close.

And close they were.

Less than a minute later, they came to a thick metal door. Batman's flashlight glinted off the door. Though rusted, it looked freshly polished, meaning that Joseph had been here recently. He had come down his exact hallway.

It also meant that he _wanted _them to find this passage as well.

Jason made a point of reaching for the handle first. It made a _clink_ sound as he tried to turn it.

Locked.

Batman then stepped up and slipped out a batarang. He pressed it into the lock, snapping it upwards. The doorknob fell to the floor and rolled before halting at the dirt wall to the right. The Dark Knight pressed his gloved fingertips into the cool metal. A low screech was heard as the door opened.

Leading the way inside, he spotted a jumble of hanging on the wall next to the doorway. There was a switch in the jumble.

Batman flicked it on and the switch blew the room into light.

Jason's eyes widened, if only slightly.

The room was almost entirely empty. Expect the back wall. Hanging on it where two skeletons. One was of an adult. The other was of a child. They were both in decent shape, no doubt kept care of. Clothes were still hanging off the bones in pristine condition. They had been freshly changed. All attached by the limbs they both made two of the same shape. Crosses.

"This explains his drive," Batman broke the silence while Jason was already across the room and inspecting them, "Keeping the remains of your dead family isn't something you should be looking at every day."

"Ironic, don't you think," The ebony retorted, not looking back.

A tense silence cut through the air with that sentence.

Batman's footsteps then were heard once more. He came up and stopped in front of the skeletons.

"Not entirely," The man spoke, "I don't see you every day." The Dark Knight had an object in his hand. It let off a blue light as it scanned over the bodies.

"I wasn't talking about me."

"Who said I was talking to you." Batman looked over the readings then, without so much as a glance back to his second eldest son, "It's a match."

Jason rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

"So should I put you in the backseat with Damian," Batman was turning away now and heading back through the doorway, "Because with your attitude that too would be a match."

The young man's eyes flashed then and he whipped around, "At least we're not _failures_. Come on, for how many years did you fight that clown and you _still _lost to him?" His lip curled up with a sneer.

Halting halfway through his step, Batman glanced over his shoulder just barely, "Nothing I say to you can fix what happened." He then continued walking.

Jason scoffed again, "Not like you'd _want _to; oh no. Bruce Wayne does whatever the fuck he wants, right? Screw everyone else!" He spread his arms out.

"If that's really what you think, then you're more blinded by your emotions that ever, Jason," Batman turned a little more then and narrowed his eyes coldly, "_Never. _Make it sound like I didn't care for you. Or that I _don't _care for you now."

His son narrowed his eyes right back, blue orbs burning, "You. Don't."

"How would you fucking know." The Dark Knight growled sharply, "I _understand _you're hurting, but I have a _case _Jason. _We _have a case. If you don't think I care now, you never will. And I can't waste my time on someone who is unwilling to try."

Jason's fists clenched and he took a step forward, jabbing a finger at his former mentor, "_You're _the one acting like a jackass," he snapped, "The only reason I'm here is because of Dick and Tim. You and Damian don't give a flying shit about the rest of us. And it's insulting when you pretend otherwise.

"Have you ever considered it's _the other way around_ Jason," Bruce took an aggressive step forward then as well, so they were just four feet away from each other. Blue eyes glaring into covered up dark brown ones.

"I know I care," Jason brought his voice dangerously low, "And you can fool everyone else _Brucie, _but the only thing you'll ever do it save lives. Not souls." He turned back, feeling satisfied with ending it there.

"Jason-" The Caped Crusader growled frustratedly, taking another step forward.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beeeeeepppp!_

White masked eyes widened, "_Get down!" _He grabbed Jason's arm and yanked him to the ground.

The room they were in minutes before erupted into orange flames. It was as quick as a thumb hitting a lighter switch. Less than five seconds later, there was another explosion from down the passage; coming from the main building. The heat had already rippled through from the flames.

Jason picked up his head slowly, a high pitched ringing shooting through one ear and out the other.

Batman had rolled to the side and got into a crouch. His eyes were looking down the passage, his hand already fleeting to his com, "Robin, report."

_Static._

* * *

**So good news, I will be updating this rather quickly since I already have the next chapter done. But I want to let everyone have the chance to read it, so I'll probably post it sometime next week (going on vacation during that time too!)**

**Also, if you could, check out that poll at the top of my page and vote! It really helps! =]**

**Till then, have a great day!  
AMW**


	15. Two Years That Will Come

**Well, here it is! That took a LITTLE longer than I said, but not as long as some of my breaks. Hope you enjoy; because shit gets confusing in this chapter. Also, schubskie joins us again with another character (I have no pray to be able to play well), Wally West! She's also coming back with her wonderful Jason. Be sure to check out her page and her amazing stories (and get her off her lazy ass to write).**

**Thanks to all who have read to this point; a special thanks to all who have reviewed, favorited, and followed! **

**Note: Please ignore any typos (reading through my work isn't something I do often), so try not to let them ruin the story for you, and feel welcome to point them out if you want!**

* * *

Batman gritted his teeth, "Robin- _come in._" He ordered with a bark.

Still, nothing came over his com, but patchy static.

The Dark Knight quickly got to his feet and reached down, his hand gripping Jason's shoulder and his other hand on his forearm, "Come on," He grunted before the ebony could protest.

"Where's Dick," Jason's voice was raw; though there was little smoke from his explosion. And his former mentor took notice to the detail.

"_Should _be with Damian," Batman glanced over his shoulder in the room that had erupted first.

_Must have been homemade. Built on a timer._

With a much quicker pace than they had coming down the passage, their footsteps rushed through the rumble covered hall and soon came to the gaping hole once more. There was little to no light filtering through now. Instead, black smoke was easing its way down slowly.

_Different type of bomb._

Batman grabbed Jason from under his arms, much like a cat. He then pulled out his grappling hook and the two went shooting up.

When they landed up, a couple feet away from the hole, the Dark Knight stood up all the way and took in the scene. The building they had walked into at the start of this was in shambles. It had been reduced to burning rumble and broken wooded beams. There were parts of furniture that were charred and smoking. The roof was spotted down, parts of it crumbling even as they stood there.

And there was no sight of Dick or of Robin.

Jason had already distanced himself from his former mentor and began to look around. His boots left deafening _cracks! _in the rumble. Suddenly, he spiraled into a memory; Joker's laugh, the time ticking away, the agony in his bones–

Suddenly, one of the wooden beams shot straight up as a foot kicked it off.

"You ok Dami?" Dick's voice.

Relief flooded into Batman's bones and it also broke Jason from his memories. His head snapped in that direction and he jogged over.

"Fine, fine," Robin still sounded irritated. He sat up from the rumble they had been covered with. He was covered in soot, but didn't look seriously hurt.

Dick's figure sat up right after him. His hand was rubbing out his shoulder, which had been cut into by one of the splintering beams, though other than that the ebony didn't even seem to notice it.

Jason stopped a couple feet from them and narrowed his eyes again. He glanced out at the broken building, "Knew we were here…"

Dick's hand then let go of his shoulder and instead reached into his jacket. He withdrew a small leather handbook from under it, "Hope this was worth it," The 24-year old jumped to his feet.

This drew Jason's attention once again, "Let me see it." He held his hand out.

His older brother handed it over without a second though.

"It was over a trip wire. When I picked it up, everything exploded," Dick admitted, putting his hands up with a sheepish smile.

"Hopefully it was the only _useful _paper in there." Robin was brushing himself off, looking pointedly at a stack of burned up books a couple feet away.

Jason and Dick exchanged glances, before the younger opened up the book. His eyes looked over the small handwriting. Each day was dated; describing in detail, what had occurred that day. Every day was written in the same ink; brown. The ebony didn't take long to read any of it. Instead he just flipped through a few pages before closing it up and tossing it to Batman, "Here."

Batman caught it, irritated one how careless the young man was, before opening it up for himself. His eyes scanned over the first page. Then to the next one. And the next one after that. A few moments later, he snapped the book shut.

"Well?" Dick watched him, his eyes hopeful.

His mentor met his gaze. He released a sigh, "These are dated within the next two years." He finally stated.

"What? You mean the past two years, right?" The 24-year old asked slowly and carefully, eying him.

"No. I mean the _next _two years." Batman stalked past them, "These are torture plans."

Jason's gaze was turned away. His hands clenched in fists and he shoved them into his pants pockets.

Dick stared at him, eyes wide and jaw slacked. His heart started racing and his stomach churned, "_Two years? _He has plans for all of that? Well does it say where he took-"

"It starts off at the first day. Nothing before that." Batman pulled his cowl off, "We need a speedster."

"What why?" Robin questioned then, seemingly unaffected by the news just received. In fact, he sounded more annoyed that they had yet _another person _working on this case who would not be on par with his skill (or at least that's what he considered to be the problem).

"Because I need to know if there's any reoccurring place that he names and I need to know it fast." Bruce's tone made it clear this was no up for debate.

"Alright Nightbird," Jason then turned back to the group, his composure back once more, "Get on that."

Dick took a moment to meet his gaze, staring off at the burned pile of books. He looked up and shook his head to clear it, "Right." The 24-year old pulled his phone from his pocket.

Bruce, who was a good couple feet from the group now, opened the book once more. His gloves fingers flipped through until they were a week into the kidnapping. His eyes read over the words; needing to know the fate that would meet his third son if it took this long to find him. His left hand clenched at his side and his eyes closed.

He remembered the first time he had met Tim. The first time he had _spoken _to him, anyway. The boy wasn't much to look at. He was thin, pale, his hair sticking out every which way; that is, until he had been caught in the rain to which it was sticking to his forehead and ears. His eyes were an icy blue.

Bruce remembered the first time he had been impressed with Tim. It was when this boy; who he had barely met, dared to meet his eyes. Dared to look into his eyes when he spoke to him. It was that moment that Bruce knew he was something special. Something original.

The billionaire remembered the first time he had seen Tim work. Just physically, but mentally. How he could solve a puzzle. How he excelled in math. How, at a very young age, had very nearly beat Bruce Wayne in chess. He remembered how well Tim listened to orders. How he work hard on every training simulator and how he never stopped until he was told to.

Then, Bruce remembered when he found out just how strong Tim was. When, just at the age of 13, he had been brutally beaten by Two-Face for the identity of the Dark Knight. How that torture scene was played throughout the streets of Gotham, the villain have rerouted all social media shows to his own torturous entertainment. He remembered every punch, every kick, every broken bone, every bruise, and every lost tooth Tim had endured. Only at the age of the 13.

And even with all that on his side; his smarts, his determination, his ambition, and his strength, Bruce could only help he could now endure this.  
Turning on his heel, the billionaire faced his three other children, "Come on. Let's get back to the Cave."

* * *

"This moron is really messed up," Robin was flipping through the handbook.

They had just arrived at the cave; Jason was mounting off his motorcycle after parking it in the Cave hangar.

"Don't look through that." Bruce snatched it from his hands as he passed. He sounded annoyed.

Robin glared at the back of his father's head and pulled off his mask, "Tt. I've _seen and done _much worse Father." He sounded testy for some reason. Well, more than usual anyway.

"Don't remind me."

Dick came in moments later, "I called Wally. He said he'll be here any-"

A gust of wind blew by and stopped next to the oldest ebony.

"What's crack-a-lackin' Batfam?" Flash skidded to a halt, taking off his cowl. His red hair immediately stuck up, a stupid grin plastered to his face.

"You," Bruce tossed the book over his shoulder so it landed perfectly in the speedster's hands, "Start reading."

Dick rolled his eyes and managed a tight smile. He felt like it was the least he could do for his best friend, "Thanks for coming Wally. Sorry it's such short notice."

"No problem, what am I looking for exactly?" Wally held the book out by one flap, letting the rest of the pages dangle.

"Anything useful. A location or something he'll repeat often." Bruce was at his computer, pulling up records on Joseph; including anything that could be concerning him in the news.

"It gets pretty graphic," Damian was spinning around in the chair that was placed by the medical bed. His hands were behind his head as he spun and looked carelessly up at the ceiling.

"Great," Wally made a face but brought the book closer. He began speed-reading; the pages creating a breeze they were turning so quick.

Dick breathed out a sight as he slumped back against the wall.

_Relax. We have his little plan book now. There's bound to be something in there we can work with._

"We should get a pizza later," Damian was saying and his oldest brother had to keep his frustration down for the lack of concern the boy had. Bruce was secretly doing the same.

"Messed up…" The speedster spoke after he flipped through the last 30 pages. He paused at the end with a frown fixed on his face.

"Anything?" Dick looked up at him, hopeful once more. He tried to hide that from his voice though. His mentor looked back as well from across the room.

"No location," Wally still pondered with that frown, "But something about… sin? I mean I've gone to church and everything, but this guy's overboard." He said finally, looking up. His eyes made contact with Dick's and he frowned a little deeper.

"I told you-" Dick looked at the billionaire then pointedly. His stomach began to churn again.

"There's nothing we can do about that now-"

"He doesn't even _know _why this is happening to him Bruce!" The 24-year old stood up abruptly, eyes narrowing, "I _knew _it was going to be a bad idea; this is _exactly _what I was afraid of!"

"Even if he knew who Hench was, it wouldn't help. No doubt if he 'confessed' he would be killed," Bruce tried to dismiss, "You're getting upset about nothing."  
"_Nothing_?" Dick repeated incredulously, "_You're _the one who thought it would be better if Tim didn't remember what happened that day! And yeah, it made him feel better, but at what cost? He could have been _prepared _if you hadn't erased his memory of it!"'

"Bruce erasing memories? Doesn't surprise me," Jason bit sarcastically then; not having said anything for a while, but not wanting to miss this opportunity.

"_You_, stay out of this." Bruce pointed back to his second eldest son.

"God, he has _no_ idea what's going on and that's only going to make Joseph more pissed," Dick crossed the room, pulling at his hair as he continued.

"_Panicking_ isn't going to help." The billionaire told him then, looking back.

"Help? What do you know about help? _I'm _the one who had to get Jason after he and Damian went at each other throats!" Dick put his hands into the air, "Bruce, this guy wants to _kill him. _How the hell he hasn't gotten annoyed enough just to finish it off already? Even if he doesn't; he has a _personal revenge_ against Tim- he's going to put him through _Hell. _At least if he _knew _who Joseph was, he could buy himself some time!" The eldest ebony son snapped back at him.

"Wait, hold-up; where have you looked for this guy?" Wally tried to intervene then; though his voice could have gone unheard, as neither even replied.

"We _all agreed _it was the best move at the time. Don't put this one me."

"He was _thirteen _what the hell was he doing about fixing Joker's mess to start with? I thought we learned from what happened to Jason!" Dick shot right back.

"_You're _the one who had me take him under to start with."

"He _sought me out _and I never made you do anything! I actually remember my exact words being: Bruce you can't put another innocent kid in danger!"

The two were up and glaring through each other; tension running straight in the air. It looked as though any second one would lash out at the other.

"I hate to barge into this argument," Alfred then walked right between the two, tray in hand that was covered in sandwiches, "But no one informed me we had a guest. How are you, Master Wallace?"

Wally blinked, "Well...you know. Distracted, kind of confused...worried?" He took a sandwich and bit it off. "How long has this case gone on for?"

"Six days. I also may add Mr. Drake has been trying to get in contact with you, sir," Alfred looked to Bruce.

The billionaire rubbed his face, "That's the last thing I need right now." He grumbled, frustratedly.

Dick was leaned over the medical bed, pressing his palms into his eyes.

The speedster looked between the two, frowning with concern. He then perked up.

"I can still help," He offered, "I mean- where've you checked? Do you have any other leads? And if religion is important to this guy, wouldn't he still be regularly going to a church in his area?"

"He hasn't left his house until recently. After the accident, he isolated himself." Bruce spoke with a low mutter.

Dick's phone buzzed and he sighed, withdrawing it and checking the caller ID. He frowned and furrowed his brow, flipping it open, "Hello?"

_"So how did you like my surprise?"_

* * *

**So in case anyone is confused; they erased Tim's memories of Joseph Hench and his family with the idea that he would remember at some point, but not while he was so young (so he wouldn't go crazy like most DC characters). It was the only way I could explain why Tim couldn't remember Joseph (when we all know he as an amazing memory). Hope this is ok with everyone; plot holes are a pain to get out of stories! **

**Also, I started the next chapter of Trigger Point! Sorry for the long wait, but I have be in the write mood to write it or else it comes out at CRAP. But yeah, next update will be Trigger Point! **

**Until then, have a great day!  
AMW**


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